Dead Men Don't Bleed

A/N: This is the final chapter and epilogue. Enjoy.

Chapter 6: When You Find It

Harry finally remembered there was a small contingent beyond his godfather's embrace when a throat cleared softly behind them. Sirius let him step back, though he kept an arm around Harry's shoulders. Mrs. Longbottom was smiling at them, the two Aurors standing just behind.

"May I offer my congratulations?" she said quietly. "To both of you?" She took the hand Sirius offered.

"Thank you," he said, his voice still scratchy. "I can't possibly... thank you enough."

She shook her head. "It was my pleasure," she insisted. "To help in correcting a mistake... and to help Harry. My grandson has always spoken very highly of you, Harry. And I've long been grateful he has someone like you to look up to."

"Neville's a good friend." Harry didn't really like the way his voice scraped over the words, but Mrs. Longbottom didn't seem to notice.

"I hope so," she said firmly before she turned her attention to Inglebee. "Duncan, I assume that you have been given instructions for Sirius' departure?"

"Yes ma'am," the aide said crisply. To Sirius he said, "You are welcome to use the main Floo--"

"Don't you think that might cause a bit of a panic?"

Inglebee flicked a brief, irritated glance at Lupin. "As I was saying," he went on, "even though the ministry is largely deserted at this hour, you might prefer to use the private Floo just outside these chambers. I have been authorized to set a Portkey to the destination of your choice as well, if you are going somewhere without a Floo connection."

As if he expected Sirius to have planned all this out, he raised his eyebrows and waited.

"What do you think, Harry?" Sirius asked. "Think the Weasleys might like to hear the good news?"

"The Weasleys are connected to the Floo," Inglebee volunteered. "Mr. Weasley works in the Department--"

"Yes, we know," Lupin interrupted, barely glancing at the Ravenclaw. "Molly probably hasn't slept," he said to Sirius, in a softer voice while Inglebee looked affronted. "I am certain she would like to see you. And then you and Harry are welcome to come to my home--for as long as you need to."

Sirius gripped Harry's shoulder. "That all right with you?"

Since Harry had absolutely no wish to go back to Grimmauld Place, he nodded. Lupin smiled, a look of pleasure that took over his eyes as well.

"The private Floo it is, then," Sirius said to Inglebee and the hoarse words made Harry wince.

"Excellent choice," Inglebee agreed. "There are a few details--"

"Could Sirius have some water first?" Harry blurted. Inglebee's eyebrows rose.

"Has he had any since he got here?" Harry asked, his own eyebrows soaring in an unintentionally mocking response.

Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder. "I'll be all right for a few more minutes."

Harry studied his godfather's sunken eyes and barely stifled his protest.

"Very good," Inglebee said, obviously relieved not have to think about Sirius' thirst. With an elaborate flourish, he pulled a parchment from the stack in his hands and extended it toward Sirius. "This document states that you have been exonerated off all charges; signed, of course. And this is an agreement to reimburse you for the inconvenience of your time spent in Azkaban."

"If you would sign this one, Mr. Black," Inglebee said, indicating a dark slash at the bottom of the parchment, "as a guarantee that you will seek no further action against the ministry." He held up his quill expectantly.

"You shouldn't sign that," Lupin said. Sirius glanced over at him, a small smile curling his lip.

"Holding a grudge? How very un-Remus of you."

Lupin ignored the teasing tone. "What they did to you was wrong," he said with a brief glare toward Inglebee. "And you shouldn't pretend otherwise."

"Mr. Lupin, if you don't mind--"

Lupin turned on Inglebee, who flinched. "I do mind, as a matter of fact," Lupin said, his voice low and dark.

Inglebee straightened. "This is not really your concern," he said in an equally prickly voice.

"Neither is it yours," Lupin said coolly. "Unless you've just been elected Minister of Magic?"

Inglebee didn't answer. He very stiffly offered his quill to Sirius.

"If I may, Duncan," Mrs. Longbottom interjected smoothly, sliding the parchment from his hands before Inglebee could suspect she might, "I should like to read these before Sirius signs anything. If you have no objections, Sirius?"

"Of course not." He accepted the document that detailed his exoneration and Mrs. Longbottom folded the rest neatly in her pocket.

Inglebee crushed the quill's delicate feathers in his fingers. "Very good," he murmured without conviction.

"I will escort him to the Floo," Mrs. Longbottom said, sweeping in front of the mute aide and giving him no chance to protest. "Aurors Thomas and Wimble, if you would precede?"

Harry couldn't help his glare as the guards passed, even as they nodded cordially. As if they hadn't shoved Sirius to his knees less than ten minutes ago.

He looked up at Sirius when his godfather's fingers tightened against his shoulder, but Sirius' eyes were following the guards' progress. Sirius glanced down, and looked a bit startled to find Harry's gaze. The taut lines around his eyes eased as he smiled. "Let's go," he said softly, and kept his grip steady as they followed after the fickle Aurors.

When they stepped into the corridor, Mr. Weasley shot to his feet, fully awake now. "Sirius!"

The startled, exuberant exclamation roused Ron and Hermione. Their sleepy confusion transformed quickly into glee. Mr. Weasley pumped Sirius' hand up and down while Hermione hugged Harry, with Ron crowding in to give Harry giddy congratulations.

"You'll come with us, won't you?" Mr. Weasley asked while Sirius' eyes popped with surprise as he found himself squeezed by Hermione as well. "Molly won't have slept a wink. And she'll want to see that Harry is all right," he said, all in a rush.

"We are just on the way to the Floo," Mrs. Longbottom said in answer. Stepping across the narrow corridor, she waved her wand in an arc over another unmarked door and it swung open.

The Weasleys and Hermione were whisked away first, followed by Lupin. Harry stepped in next. Sirius took a handful of powder and stepped in beside him. He paused with the powder curled in his palm. "Augusta, I don't know how to thank you..." he said, the roughness in his voice even more pronounced.

Mrs. Longbottom waved the words away. "You already have. Along with you now," she said firmly. "Take care of Harry."

Sirius glanced down at Harry, his dark eyes shining a little as he nodded. "I will."

She smiled as she stepped back. "Yes, I know. There is no one in that chamber tonight who could doubt that."

oOoOo

Once Mrs. Weasley was satisfied that Sirius and Harry were both whole--and after Mr. Weasley had assured her that they would be just fine at Lupin's house--she allowed them to leave. Each with a basket full of food, a stack of clean blankets and Sirius' clothes, freshly laundered.

Her last words, "Come for dinner!" still rolled around Harry's ears as the world stopped spinning long enough for him to realize that the apparition had deposited them safely in front of small house. Nine Canary Lane, as Lupin had told him to repeat before they'd Apparated, because the house was protected by something called the Fidelius Charm.

It was familiar small house. A street that Harry wished he didn't remember quite so vividly.

"You all right?" Sirius asked near his ear. He waited until Harry nodded before he stepped back.

"It's from your memory..."

"Remus' house," Sirius explained with a quick nod. "I didn't expect to find Peter here..."

"Five minutes later and you wouldn't have," Lupin muttered as he chanted something at the doorknob.

"Not your fault, Moony," Sirius said automatically and Harry wondered how many times he had said it.

Lupin sighed and nudged the door open, holding it open as Harry and Sirius stepped inside.

It was the same parlour. With a different sofa to replace the one that had been obliterated by Pettigrew.

"You can bring those in here," Sirius said over his shoulder, already on his way into the kitchen beyond. "Here..." He shifted Harry's share of supplies into his own arms when Harry followed him. "Well," Sirius said, eyeing the parcels, "we have enough food for a month. And all this after the feast Molly already set for us."

Lupin came in then, with another basket and several of the blankets. Harry flattened himself up against the counter to make room. "Sorry," he mumbled as he moved out of the way.

Lupin glanced up, confusion giving his brown eyes a bit of an odd haze. He switched his gaze to Sirius, who was sliding over to make room for Harry near the stove.

"The kitchen is a bit small," Lupin offered, shrugging his shoulders in apology.

"I doubt even Hogwarts' kitchens could hold all this food."

Lupin grinned at Sirius, but it faded just as quickly. "Do you realize it's four in the morning?" he murmured, shaking his head. "I had no idea until I saw the clock in the parlour."

"Is it?" Sirius levered himself away from the counter. "Feels more like noon..."

"Adrenaline..." With a frown, Lupin tilted his head to study Sirius. "Did they let you sleep?"

Harry couldn't see Sirius' face but it was impossible to misinterpret the ripple of tension through his godfather's back. "For a few hours," he said quietly. He lifted the lid on one of Mrs. Weasleys' baskets, removing a head of leafy lettuce and a bunch of carrots. "Does Molly think we're rabbits?"

It took a moment for Lupin's pursed lips to ease into a smile. "She probably knows you would feed Harry chocolate frogs and strudel if left to your own devices."

"I could make a fine strudel with these," Sirius retorted, jiggling the carrots until their tops danced. Remus smirked and caught the orange bundle as Sirius tossed them over.

"Let's cast a charm over the rest of this for now, yeah?" Sirius said as Lupin put the carrots in one of the tallest cupboards--another one charmed to keep things cold, judging by the full bottle of milk inside. "It will keep until morning."

"It is morning."

"Until later in the morning then," Sirius said as he launched the lettuce at his friend, who caught it with the practiced ease of someone who has had years-worth of lettuces thrown at his head.

Sirius turned back to Harry while Lupin dutifully cast a wide charm over the three baskets. "You look as though you could use more than a few hours of sleep."

To Harry though, sleep felt less important than it had in days. He felt keyed up, as though he could push through an entire weeks' worth of Snape's worst lessons without fouling up a single ingredient.

"Your eye looks better though," Sirius went on as he thumbed Harry's fringe away from the brow. "One more dose, I think. Remus has fresh in the lav upstairs." He let Harry's fringe flop back into place and turned to Lupin. "He can sleep in your old room?"

"Absolutely," Lupin agreed with a smile.

Sirius gave Harry's shoulder blade a gentle nudge toward the parlour, with Lupin leading the way. As they went up the stairs, Harry tried not to think about Pettigrew coming down these same steps all those years ago.

"Here we are," Lupin said as they stopped in front of one of the four doors on the second floor. "If you need anything..." He gestured to the room at the end of the short corridor.

"I know where to find you," Sirius finished with a smile. "Thanks."

"For a room? You know it's yours any time you need it."

"Not for the room, Moony."

Lupin gripped Sirius' shoulder for a second. "Anything, Sirius. That applies to you as well, Harry."

Harry nodded quickly, unsure what the proper response might be.

Lupin smiled. "Good night."

Sirius took the stack of laundry from his hands. "Night, Remus." When Lupin had disappeared into his room, Sirius set the clothes on the counter and plucked a squat tub from a shelf along the wall in the loo. Once Sirius had taken care of the final layer of salve, he led Harry into a bedroom, neatly kept, and worn like the rest of the house. The walls were mostly empty; the dresser and desk as well, except for a framed picture of what looked like a younger Lupin and his family.

"That's Remus' sister," Sirius said of the blonde witch smiling in the frame.
I'll be in her old room, just across the corridor."

"I didn't know Lupin had a sister," Harry said as his gaze flicked across the corridor.

"She lives in Australia... hasn't spoken to Remus in years." Sirius leaned over and smoothed the bed's quilt with a sharp tug.

"Because he's a werewolf?"

"Something like that," he said, straightening up. "I don't think he would mind if you called him Remus," he added easily as he scooped up the pillow. Harry watched him squishing it this way and that, in the name of fluffing it, knowing his cheeks were glowing again and wishing they wouldn't.

"Yeah," he finally said with a shrug as Sirius set the pillow to rights. "He said I should."

Surprise peaked Sirius' eyebrows, but his grey eyes were amused. "I thought he was going to thump me when he came down from the dais."

Harry cocked his head, trying to remember any anger on Lupin's part, but he couldn't... Lupin had hugged Sirius when they'd met in the middle of the broken heptagram. Of course, Harry hadn't seen his face.

"He was really worried about you," Harry offered. Sirius raked a few fingers through his long hair and sighed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen so abruptly," he said quietly. "I know it must have been hell for you--"

"It's all right," Harry interrupted hastily, not wanting his godfather to apologize again.

"It isn't," Sirius said anyway. "And I am very sorry. I didn't want it to happen that way. But I didn't want you to worry until we knew for certain; unless it was necessary."

"I know," Harry said with a self-conscious shrug.

Sirius pressed his lips together but went on quickly, "I couldn't have asked you before I made my decision. I knew you wouldn't agree to it. But I had to do it. When I realized that Dumbledore was going to force you to return to the Dursleys... Harry--" Sirius curled a hand around one of Harry's shoulders. "--I know you don't think they hurt you; that it wasn't important, but I think it was. And I couldn't allow you to stay there. You have no idea how much I regret not doing this sooner."

It was difficult to look Sirius' in the eye, but he could find no solace in the bare walls beyond, so he swallowed and tried to explain, "I didn't want to go back there, but I would have."

Shaking his head, Sirius said, "You aren't listening to me." He took Harry's other shoulder and guided him until Harry had no choice but to sit on the end of the bed or tumble backwards onto it. Sirius sat beside him, twisting to hold Harry's gaze. "It isn't up to you to decide how much you can endure in order to keep others safe."

Harry opened his mouth, but Sirius cut him off with a soft, "I know you can't accept that. That is why I made the decision for you... which is extremely presumptuous of me, I know." Harry couldn't help smiling at Sirius' self-chiding. Sirius paused to return the smile and then said seriously, "You've been forced to give up too much, Harry. And I know it is another presumption on my part, but I do think I'll make a better guardian than the Dursleys."

"A few meals and a blanket," Harry said with a snort, "and you'll have won."

Sirius didn't even crack a smile. "Whatever you need, you will have it."

Harry shifted. "I know..."

Sirius didn't respond right away. When he did, pain softened his words. "Your uncle never should have touched you in anger. I'm very sorry he hurt you."

Harry tried to shrug it off, but the movement was a little too tense.

Sirius lips turned sour. "I will have to fetch your trunk at some point," he said, blowing a lock of hair out of his face with a forceful breath.

Harry's insides danced at the thought of Sirius going anywhere near Little Whinging. "They don't really like wizards."

"And yet they have no idea what an angry wizard is capable of," Sirius muttered. He sighed again as Harry started to protest. "I'm not going to do anything to them, Harry, much as I would like to. Those twelve years in Azkaban were quite enough."

He said it with a slight smirk but it didn't disguise the dark undertone. And Harry knew then that he had nothing to worry about when it came to Sirius hurting the Dursleys. Sirius wasn't going to do anything foolish. Not when he had risked everything for Harry--not only his life but his freedom.

And no one had ever done that for him; not since his parents.

Harry ignored the sudden lump in his throat, struggled for a moment and said too thickly anyway, "Thank you."

For a moment, Sirius' brow crumpled in confusion, as if he thought Harry was thanking him for not thrashing the Dursleys, but then his brow smoothed and his grey eyes softened. "You are very welcome."

He put an arm round Harry's shoulders and pulled him forward. Harry leaned into the hug, suddenly feeling the early hour--and the sleep he'd missed. "And if you're trying to avoid the subject of the Dursleys, kid," Sirius said, letting Harry go after a long minute, "I'm not that easily distracted."

Harry feigned a groan and let himself fall back on the bed. "It's four in the morning, you know. Aren't you supposed to be advocating an early bedtime or something?"

Sirius leaned back on a palm as he squinted down at him. "I'm rather certain I won't be pestering you about a bedtime. An occasional wash behind the ears... perhaps."

Harry grinned as he pushed himself up. "I won't be able to tell you and Mrs. Weasley apart."

"Something for you to grouse about with Ron..." His smile fading slowly, Sirius took Harry's chin in a careful hand. "You did not deserve to be mistreated by the Dursleys," he said in a voice strained with the past two days. "Even if they hate wizards, no matter what you did, they should not have hurt you... pushed you; manhandled you in any way. And I need you to understand that that won't ever happen to you again; that I won't hurt you."

His chin still captured, Harry nodded awkwardly. "I know."

Sirius' eyes searched his face, and Harry had no idea what his godfather saw there. "I don't think I really realized that I'm your guardian until this very moment," he finally muttered as he released Harry's chin. "And Dumbledore, whenever he discovers what we've done, will have absolutely no say in anything to do with you."

Harry cocked his head. "How can he not know already? Dumbledore knows everything."

"Apparently not." Sirius summoned a pair of pyjamas from the stack of clothes still waiting in the loo. "Get some sleep," he said, handing the soft cotton over. "I'll be just across the corridor if you need anything. The kitchen is full of food if you're hungry. Don't go outside; it's not protected along with the house."

"I won't."

Sirius nudged his jaw as he stood. "Sleep as late as you like. We'll wait lunch... or dinner." He drifted toward the door as Harry wadded the pyjamas into a ball. Sirius was smiling at him. "Night, kiddo."

Happy through the weight of fatigue that was making his eyelids begin to droop, Harry smiled too. "Night Sirius."

oOoOo

When Harry trudged down the stairs, having just emerged from a dead sleep, he had already decided he knew what it felt like to be run over by the Knight Bus. Run over and reanimated, only to be flattened again. He scrubbed his fists over his eyes, and felt no better for it.

The upstairs was empty--at least Sirius' room had been. Harry hadn't checked Remus'.

"Thought you were going to sleep straight through."

Harry frowned, letting the words right themselves as he tried to make sense of them. He couldn't quite manage.

Sirius was sitting in one of the chairs in the parlour, a book open on his lap.

"What time is it?" Harry asked; the words were broken by a yawn.

"Half seven."

Harry blinked stupidly at him. "In the morning?"

The lines around Sirius' eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Evening. You've been asleep for fifteen hours."

"I have?"

Sirius nodded. He closed his book, catching his place with a finger as he tilted his head. "You're missing a sock..."

Harry stared down at his bare toes. "Oh."

Chuckling quietly, Sirius summoned the errant sock. Harry mumbled his thanks as he plopped onto the sofa beside his godfather. It took him three tries to shove his foot into it. "I can usually dress myself," he muttered as he found Sirius trying not to laugh.

"I had a bit of trouble myself," Sirius told him, lips still twitching. "I only woke up an hour ago." He set his book on the table. "Would you like something to eat?"

The question made Harry realize how hungry he was. "Shouldn't we wait for Lupin... er, Remus?"

"He's having a shower." Sirius stood, stretching his arms out in front of him as a wide yawn claimed him. "Oy... I could sleep for another twelve hours at least," he said as his arms flopped heavily to his sides. "What do you feel like eating?"

Harry shrugged and followed his godfather into the small kitchen. "Anything."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "No favourites?"

"Cottage Pie," Harry answered without thinking. He immediately wished he'd not answered, but Sirius was already opening the cold cupboard, as if there had been nothing unusual in Harry's response.

"I think Molly gave us a parcel of minced beef... and we have carrots!" Triumphant, Sirius extracted the bunch from the cold cupboard and plunked it on the counter. "Don't think I've ever made cottage pie, but I've certainly eaten it. Does it have onions? I think it does... Check the baskets... I don't see any in Remus' cupboard."

"Er... all right." Harry began rummaging around in Mrs. Weasley's supplies. "Here's the beef," he said; it was cold to the touch even though it had been nowhere near the cold cupboard.

His hands full of potatoes and peas, Sirius motioned with his chin and Harry added it to the pile of vegetables in his godfather's arms. "Onions," Sirius reminded him with a smirk when he'd unloaded the vegetables near the stove.

"Right..." Harry unearthed several at the bottom of one of the baskets, but his glance around the tidy kitchen for a knife was interrupted by several loud raps against the front door. Sirius paused in lighting the stove, the end of his wand already aflame.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, the flame disappeared and Sirius had extended his wand in front of him. "Stay here," he ordered under his breath, and slipped out of the kitchen without a sound.

Harry drew his holly and crept to the edge of the kitchen, his heart slamming against his ribs. Even though the house was supposed to be warded.

"Bollucks," he heard Sirius mutter and then the door was opening. "Dumbledore," was the next clipped word to emerge. Relieved and alarmed in one swift breath, Harry left his hand to hover near his wand as he slid it back into his pocket.

"Good evening, Sirius." Dumbledore's greeting was perfectly pleasant and when Harry stepped out into the parlour, the headmaster was smiling. His blue eyes found Harry instantly. "Harry, you look well. Not a trace of bruising," he said as he shook out his robes, though no one had yet offered him entrance.

Harry's fingers strayed to the eye that Dudley had so recently blackened. "Sirius gave me salve," he said, and then was surprised at his own defensiveness. Dumbledore nodded though, as if Harry wasn't frowning.

"I've taken the liberty of retrieving your trunk from Privet Drive," he continued on pleasantly. "I thought I might spare you the journey."

Sirius' eyes had narrowed, the grey sharp and intent. "How did you know we were here?"

"I took tea with the Weasleys this afternoon," Dumbledore answered in the same benign tone. "Ronald was not as circumspect as his parents urged him to be," he added; humor leant a sparkle to his blue eyes.

More than a little confused, Harry looked to his godfather, but Sirius was still studying Dumbledore with a deep frown. "What are you playing at?" he finally demanded when the aged wizard continued to decorate the stoop.

Snowy eyebrows swept up the lined forward. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Sirius."

"No?" Sirius' arms crossed his chest; he hadn't put his wand away. "Two days ago, you swooped into Grimmauld Place and insisted that Harry return to the Dursleys even though he'd just been pummeled by his cousin and now you've brought us his trunk?"

"I assumed Harry might like his own clothes," Dumbledore answered in the sort of tone one might reserve for angered Hippogriffs.

Sirius stared at him. "And the news that I've been granted guardianship of Harry--not to mention my freedom? You have nothing to say about that? Or had you not heard?"

Dumbledore seemed not to notice the sarcasm. "I have. I did not come here with an ulterior motive, Sirius." Peering over his half-moon spectacles, he asked curiously, "Did you expect I might throw a child's tantrum or attempt to kidnap Harry from Remus' parlour?"

"No one thinks that."

Harry turned at Lupin's interjection. Sirius didn't move, but Dumbledore glanced at Lupin, smiling a little.

"Thank you, Remus," he said. "If I might come in? I have had a rather tiring afternoon."

"Of course."

Sirius was still scowling as he stepped back to allow the headmaster--and Harry's floating trunk--into the house. Neither Sirius nor Harry sat, and Lupin only after Dumbledore declined his offer of tea.

"Please do sit, Sirius," Dumbledore urged. "Harry, my boy. I will not stay long, as I know both of you have endured much more than I over the past days."

"And how do you know that?" Sirius asked tightly from where he and Harry stood together beside the kitchen door.

The old man's eyes were tired now, showing his age more than Harry was used to. "Quite simply, Sirius, because I was there."

"There?" Sirius echoed, his frown finally faltering. "Where?"

Dumbledore's hands fluttered against his ruby robes--a color that Harry had never seen the headmaster wear. "The Council could not have convened without my knowledge..."

Harry thought he must still be suffering the effects of his massively long slumber, because he had no idea why Sirius' spine jerked, or why he took an aborted step forward, halting with his fists at his sides, his wand still held in a white-knuckled grip.

"Which one were you?" he eventually asked, the words a snap of harsh breath.

Harry looked between Sirius and Dumbledore, even more confused.

"Roggins," Dumbledore murmured softly.

Roggins... Harry's mind echoed the name dumbly.

Sirius' wand sliced through the air, but nothing happened. No crackle of magic, no spell to knock the headmaster to the floor. Just silence.

Silence that filled Harry's ears until he thought he might explode.

Dumbledore had been Roggins.

Roggins, who had known too much.

Harry had thought it had been the heptagram's magic...

"How did you know?" he heard himself asking. Speaking even though everything was suddenly hazy. Blood was pumping too quickly through his temples.

"You used Legilimency on him," Sirius said flatly.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked shakily.

"I saw your memories," Dumbledore explained softly. "When I came to Grimmauld Place."

Harry's palms were suddenly numb. "My... memories?"

Before Dumbledore could offer anything else, Sirius said furiously, "You had no right to do that."

"You accused Harry's relatives of abuse, Sirius; negligence at the very least. Surely, I could not ignore that--"

"You knew they kept him in a cupboard!"

"I did not know that until he was already attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore murmured.

Sirius slashed his wand through the air again and this time, the air around him did snap. "And you believe that frees you of culpability?" he demanded harshly.

"No," Dumbledore answered without hesitation. "Nothing can do that."

"You're damn right it can't!"

Dumbledore absorbed the sharp words without flinching. Without saying anything at all. Sirius' chest was rising and falling too rapidly to be safe. And even with all that, Harry could only focus on the raw ache in the pit of his stomach. The humiliation and anger, slowly burning its way up to his chest.

He stared at nothing as he asked quietly, "You saw everything?"

Every time Uncle Vernon flung me into my cupboard? Every time Aunt Petunia screamed at me? Every single game of Harry Hunting?

Dumbledore didn't answer and Harry wanted to run away. To flee as he had when Sirius had Apparated away from the Weasley's garden.

Before the idea could do more than germinate, he realized Sirius' fingers were wrapped around his wrist, and he wondered how long they'd been there.

"It was never my intention that you should be harmed, Harry," Dumbledore said into the panicked silence.

"I don't believe you," Harry said bitterly, and didn't even care that Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"Harry--"

"If you saw my memories at Grimmauld Place, then why did you say I still had to go back to the Dursleys?"

"You were safe there," Dumbledore answered, as if it was the most logical answer in the world.

Harry turned away. Safe. Bloody likely.

He wasn't going to run. He didn't need to run. Sirius hadn't moved; hadn't even taken the comforting hold from his wrist.

"I think it's fairly obvious that Harry wasn't safe with his relatives, Albus," Lupin spoke softly. His emotions under control now, Harry waited for Dumbledore's vague response.

Instead, the wizened head nodded. "He was safe from Voldemort. So long as he stayed with his mother's sister--as a member of her family--Harry was surrounded by protective wards, forged by Lily's sacrifice; by the blood she shared with Petunia. Nothing outside those walls could harm him."

Only within.

The irony nearly made Harry smile. Except that he still wanted to shout at Dumbledore.

"Why didn't you explain that?" Sirius asked, still grasping Harry's wrist.

"Would it have made a difference to you?"

"No."

Dumbledore smiled without humor. "Then it does not matter." Sirius shifted, but Dumbledore cut him off before he could speak. "You are free, Sirius. And you may now rebuff each and every one of my efforts to keep Harry safe. Have you not everything that you wanted?"

"Yes, I have." Sirius bit the words off. "And I fully intend to make certain that Harry is safe."

"Do you?" Dumbledore asked, layering his hands over his crimson lap and leaning forward. "That is good news indeed. The protective wards on Privet Drive no longer exist, of course. The moment you accepted the document concerning Harry's guardianship, they disappeared. And nothing I can do will bring them back--"

"It doesn't matter; he isn't going back there."

"Though I suppose," Dumbledore mused as if Sirius hadn't interrupted, "if Harry were to have a parent on staff, he would be able to stay within the protective wards of the castle all summer... and special wards could probably be erected around that parents' quarters, in case of emergency..."

Sirius and Harry--and Lupin from the sofa--were all staring at him, Harry wondering if he was stuck in a dream. The mad sort of dream that always seemed to end with someone naked and in a room full of gawkers.

"Well," Dumbledore said as he rose, "I do have an appointment this evening. And I'm sure you would like to get back to your dinner preparations. Cottage Pie? Harry's favourite, I do believe."

"That's it, then?" Sirius asked, his voice strained. He'd moved his hand to Harry's shoulder, his fingers restraints. "You invite me into the castle and we pretend none of this ever happened?"

Dumbledore lifted his eyes to meet Sirius'. There was nothing gentle about the blue now. "Voldemort has targeted your godson. He will not stop until one of them is dead. You cannot change that, Sirius." He flicked his fingers and a thick roll of parchment hovered in front of Sirius' face. "A contract for your immediate employment. Each of us would do well to accept what must be."

He inclined his head, with a soft, "Good evening," and left in silence.

Harry stared at the front door, every bit of anger and humiliation drained. It had been replaced by cold fear. He had known, in a way, that Voldemort was never going to stop. But hat didn't make Dumbledore's words any less terrifying.

"Do you..." He swallowed, and had no idea what he wanted to say. But it didn't matter; Sirius had pulled him close. Strong fingers laced through Harry's hair as Harry tried not to picture Cedric's face... or Quirrel's as he'd turned to dust. Or Ginny's as Tom Riddle had drained her life away.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," Sirius said, somehow giving strength through a whisper. His arm tightened against Harry's back. "Do you think I put us through all of this just to let Voldemort win?"

Harry couldn't answer.

"We are going to beat him, Harry," Sirius said into his hair. "I'll make certain you are free of him."

And no matter that Sirius couldn't be certain, somehow that didn't stop Harry from believing him.

oOoOo

Epilogue

Three years later...

A cheer rose up around the Great Hall and before Harry could really understand what had just happened, he was surrounded by his friends. And Sirius, who was hugging him so fiercely that Harry knew his ribs would never be the same again.

Sirius was crying; Harry could feel the tears shaking both of them. And when Sirius spoke, he was hoarse from the minutes he'd spent screaming for Harry after Voldemort's shield had thrown him from the circle; his hands were probably raw from pounding against the spitting magic. "You did it," he breathed, sounding like he was choking on the words.

Or perhaps it was from the cry of rage when Sirius had seen Harry limp in Hagrid's arms. Or the one right before he'd severed Nagini's head from his body.

Harry returned Sirius' hug as hard as he dared, half afraid that he'd shatter his godfather in two. "We did it," he muttered into Sirius' shoulder. Because Sirius had been with him through all of it. Through Umbridge's torment, through Dumbledore's death, Snape's supposed betrayal, and with him on his hunt for the Horcruxes.

He'd never let Harry down; Sirius had given him everything he'd ever wanted in a guardian.

In a father.

And just as Sirius had promised, Harry was free from Voldemort.

oOoOo

Fourteen Years After that...

"James Sirius!"

"Oy, Al, move before Dad--"

"Before Dad what?" Harry interrupted in the quiet tone reserved for just such situations.

Both of his sons gaped up at him. Though it was rather hard to tell who was who under all the muck covering their faces.

"It was his fault!" James immediately said.

"Was not!" Albus tried to stand but James caught an ankle and scrambled up before his brother could. "Hey!"

"Here..." Harry reached a hand down and hoisted his younger son up, giving the elder a one-eyed glare. James scrubbed a filthy hand across his nose and glanced away, shrugging slightly.

"Sorry Dad," Albus panted and Harry sighed as he saw the mud splattered across his clean trousers.

"That's what cleaning charms are for," he said with a quick squeeze for Al's shoulder, not actually concerned with a few flecks of mud. Two mud-encrusted boys, now that he was concerned with. "What were you two doing?" he finally asked.

"Nothing," James immediately answered. "Er," he amended when Harry ducked his head to meet his son's dark-eyed gaze. "Just fooling about near the pond."

"Fooling about?" Harry echoed suspiciously.

"Yeah," Albus piped up in his slightly squeaky six-year old voice. "With Rose and Fred."

Harry glanced toward the direction of the pond. "Where are Rose and Fred?"

"Oh, Aunt Hermione made Rose go in ages ago," Albus said helpfully. "And Fred had to duck into the house real quick, before Aunt Angelina saw him. He looks worse than us."

Harry looked between his sons, both of them smiling like the devilish cherubs they were. "And that's all you were doing? Mucking about in the pond?"

"Yep," the brothers chorused together.

Harry narrowed his eyes, studying them carefully for broken limbs. He couldn't find any. Or blood. Not even a scrape. Whatever mischief they'd got up to, at least they'd returned whole. "I had best not find out differently," he warned them anyway. The briefest of pauses, a shared glance, and they were both nodding obediently.

"Honest Dad," James insisted, "we weren't doing anything bad."

"All right," Harry conceded, curiosity surging through him then at the sincerity in James' tone. "Let's go inside. Your mum was about to send for the Aurors."

"You're an Auror," Albus pointed out sensibly. "And Uncle Ron."

"Don't be a prat," James said, as he gave his brother's shoulder a shove, "not them. Dad means real Aurors."

Harry laughed. "And just what am I if not a real Auror?"

James shrugged, grinning through the caked mud on his face. "The Vanquisher of Voldemort?" he warbled, quoting the Prophet's favorite title for Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes, ruffling James' crusted hair fondly, but anything he might have said was cut off as the back door opened. "Oy, you three! We're about to start chewing off limbs in here!"

"Start with an arm, Grandad!" James called back cheerfully. Sirius grinned at him.

"Perhaps yours," he retorted. And then made a face as James planted himself in front of Sirius and shook his head vigorously. Mud splattered across Sirius' shirt. "You little bugger..."

James laughed as he dodged Sirius' playful swat and scooted into the house.

"Don't you dare, Al," Sirius said in mock-horror as Albus mimicked his brother. But it was too late and another round of mud splattered Sirius.

"That's what cleaning charms are for," Albus told him with a grin. He yelped on his way past, not quite managing to avoid Sirius' hand as deftly as James had. Sirius chuckled and slung an arm around Harry's shoulders as they watched the two boys fleeing Ginny's scolding, which was interrupted by a loud crash.

"Lily!"

"Hugo!" Hermione's voice chimed in.

"I'll get it, mate," Ron said under breath as he passed Harry and Sirius, already pulling his wand from his holster. "It's all right, Hermione... Reparo!"

"Were you playing in the pond with the children, Sirius?" Molly asked as she ushered the two of them inside. "Harry, your trousers!"

"Taken care of, Molly," Sirius said with smile. He waved a strong Cleaning Charm over both of them, and the mud disappeared with a slurp. Molly patted his arm and moved off to finish the dinner preparations, pausing to cluck her tongue at Arthur as he dismantled a Muggle radio with Remus' help.

Sirius eyed Harry with a smirk. "Playing in the pond?"

"So they say."

"Didn't see any blood," Sirius mused with worried brows as he glanced up the stairs where James and Albus had disappeared.

Harry smiled at his godfather. "Not a scratch."

Lily bumped into Sirius' legs then and Sirius' arms were full of four-year old in the next second. "Hi there, love," he soft softly. Lily's lips immediately formed a pout. "What's the matter?"

"Mummy shouted at me!"

"Did she?" Sirius murmured. "Are you all right?"

Harry shook his head in amusement as Lily said vehemently that no, she was not all right and added that Mummy was awfully mean. Sirius kissed her cheek, nodding along with her childish rant as he carried her into the kitchen so that he might soothe her troubles with a biscuit.

Harry went to help Ron with the last bits of shattered glass, smiling as he listened to the sounds of his family all around him.

The End

oOoOo

A/N: Thank you very, very much to all of my readers and reviewers. I didn't expect such an enthusiastic response to this story. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

In regards to Dumbledore, I know I've left him a bit of mystery, but that's the way I see him in canon, so I like to write him that way as well. Thanks for reading!