Moon Blessed

His magic flared, giving a clear command.

He raised his hand, palm facing away, fingers spread and relaxed. He moved his wrist gently.

The sphere of water in front of him shifted to adopt the shape of a dolphin.

He felt his connection with the water strengthen. His magic hummed in approval.

~Learn~ it seemed to say. ~Tune yourself irreversibly to it~

He closed his eyes, spreading out his senses to memorize the feel of the water against his magic. It as wonderful and right.

He moved his wrist more. The water dolphin started changing sizes. He ceased his movements. The dolphin stilled.

He felt his magic hum once more, signalling him to move on.

His fingers straightened, no longer spread out. The water dolphin started to freeze.

He felt a buzz throughout his body as his magic bristled in dissatisfaction.

~Faster. Learn control.~

He focused on his intent. The dolphin was frozen solid the next moment – and promptly started falling back into the pool. His connection had vanished now that the dolphin was no longer embodies by the liquid state of water.

His magic flared, angry at the loss of its connection. It lashed out of him, seeking out the falling dolphin.

He felt himself having a weak connection with the ice dolphin after a while. He latched onto the feeling, pushing his magic more to memorize it and strengthen the bond.

The process was tiring. But he refused to waver his attention from the now smooth and cold sensation of the solid form of water he was feeling through his connection. So different from the lax and lukewarm feel of liquid water yet somehow still giving him a sense of rightness.

His magic was slightly drained but it hummed in approval when the connection strengthened after a while.

He had tuned himself to the solid form of water successfully.

~Good~ it whispered.

He smiled, happy at the compliment. He held onto the ice dolphin for a moment longer, marvelling at its feel against his magic. A glint on its surface had him looking upwards.

A full moon shone down on him, situated in the centre of the volcanic crater's opening.

~Next, Harrison.~

He looked back to his ice dolphin. His fingers spread out once more and started to curl themselves inward. The ice dolphin started to melt.

A tingle of magic shot through him and he quickened the process as demanded. Soon the dolphin evaporated, turning the air in front of him slightly misty.

His magic flared again and he felt it reaching out to the warm, misty air, tuning itself the third time that night to water – this time to its gaseous form. The process was easier this time, with his previous two experiences helping him adapt faster. And soon, he was in tune with the water in the air, naked to his human eye but crystal clear within his magic's vision.

His magic hummed content now that it was one with its favourite element.

He smiled, happy that he had completed his lessons for the night.

~Not yet~ It whispered. ~One more~

Harry frowned, puzzled.

His magic rose within him, taking over. A new water sphere rose from the pool and shaped itself into a lily. His arm lifted, his fingers stretching as he did a new gesture he had never done before.

The water hardened, not into ice but into a jelly-like substance that defined the features of the flower it was shaped after. His magic tingled, soaring towards the partially hardened object to wrap itself around it. His connection did not waver as he expected.

He moved his hand again, repeating the whole process. The movement further hardened the water in front of him until it was completely hardened into the shape of a lily flower. His magic hummed in approval at the completion of the work.

He lowered the lily sculpture onto the pool, letting it sink to the bottom slowly. He would come back for it another time.

He glanced upwards.

The moon was still shining brightly. But only a quarter of it could be viewed from the pool.

Time was almost up.

The magic in his surroundings pulsed, lightening up the dull volcanic crater in white light.

The voice whispered in his mind again, gentle but urgent.

~ Learn Harrison ~

An image of his own self surrounded by numerous water spheres, each changing shape, hardening, freezing, melting simultaneously at different speeds entered his mind.

The message was clear.

He had to learn and learn quickly.

"Ok," he thought back in reply. The magic in the moon pool hummed in delight at his answer.

He fell back onto the water to float once again, the exhaustion of his magical expenditure catching up with his body.

The last of the magic around him simmered down and vanished as the moon finally disappeared from view from within the crater.

He closed his eyes.

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp, perplexed by his discovery – and promptly fell off his sofa.

Rubbing his elbow which had a nasty impact with the floor and muttering under his breath that he had to find better environments to practice Occlumency, he glared at the said floor he was sprawled upon.

"Next time I should do this in my bed," he thought as he gingerly stood and seated himself back on his sofa. A crash to his left had him looking to his side. He found himself watching one of his fire belching umbrellas chasing his wardrobe which seemed to have trouble manoeuvring itself around the furniture in his living room.

He resisted the urge to slap his own forehead.

"Let him go will you?" he shouted to his disruptive belongings, "You two are making too much of noise."

Immediately both umbrella and wardrobe came to a standstill and stood like statues.

Harry rolled his eyes at finding a wardrobe and bright yellow umbrella situated in the middle of his living room. "Next time, I need to make better life decisions while shopping," he thought absently as he looked about his refurbished living room. But even while he ranted internally at his rather haphazard and defiantly unique home, he knew deep down that he would not change a single thing. He loved it very much, messy and unusual structure and all.

Shaking himself slightly to get back on track on his task, now that the room was quiet again, Harry let his thoughts wander back to what he had uncovered during his Occlumency practice.

Almost all of it was embarrassing if he were to be truthful. Griphook had not mentioned many details when it came to what he did in his moonstruck phase and now he was absolutely glad about it. The surly goblin would have teased him mercilessly!

Harry shuddered. Whatever had he been even thinking? He had completely been out of his mind. That was it. There was no other explanation as to why he would spontaneously start decorating the Goblin Queen's hair with water flowers and ice sculptures while babbling on about inconsequential matters.

And the eating! Merlin, what an embarrassment!

He had ordered – ORDERED! – both the King and Queen of the Goblin Nation for fish to eat! And had eaten so much of fish raw! In fact, he had rejected the first batch of cooked fish the goblins had found for him.

Harry wanted to bash his head against the stone walls of his living room. Whatever had possessed him? He had eaten enough for a whole army in his opinion.

At least the memories from the moon pool were less embarrassing, though they absolutely confused him.

The message was clear as to why the whole moon fiasco happened. He was to learn to master his water ability.

But what of the whispered voice? Who was it? Why had it asked him to master and learn about his new abilities? There had been an urgent tone to the voice. Why?

And what he had achieved in the moon pool was perplexing as well.

All this while, he had only manipulated water here and there for fun. But the moon pool had just taught him to do more than simple fancies. He could connect with water if what he had deciphered from the unexpected lesson was correct. And from what he had felt from his memories, the feeling was simply wonderful and right. As if that was what he was meant to do – become a part of the water in all essence.

But the pool had never covered all of the abilities he had uncovered. What about his ability to talk to creatures of all kinds? Had he already figured out the gist of it? Harry doubted that. Maybe he would be taught about it after he mastered his water powers?

He frowned, unsure.

"Perhaps the main question is, are you going to attempt to master your powers as was requested?" his inner voice murmured. "If you were meant to know all these answers to your questions, you would know it when the time is right. Something big is at play here, you may not get all of your answers immediately yet."

Harry sighed, resenting his inner self for being right. He would try to find answers to his questions, despite that. He'll just have to concede to remaining in the dark if he were unsuccessful.

As for the mastering of his abilities, well he would master them. It would be a waste not to and would even put him at a disadvantage in the future if he had to use his powers but was simply not skilled at controlling it. And he trusted the voice. Whatever it was…whoever it was. If it knew about his abilities, it likely had the answers about his transformation.

Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This was getting a tad too complicated.

"No."

"Severus please underst–," Albus started.

"It won't work, Albus."

"But –,"

"He is right, Albus."

Albus sighed, getting tired of the interruptions. "We need to keep Harry safe."

"And how would making him stay at a place of your choosing help?" Severus' silky voice questioned. "Your last attempt was a big failure if I recalled correctly."

Albus flinched but knew very well that he deserved his colleagues' distrust and doubt after what he had done – albeit unintentionally – to Harry.

"I repeat. Severus is right Albus. Besides, he is much safer at wherever he is currently staying – most likely an ancestral home. And considering nobody knows about his whereabouts except for him and likely no one who is not directly related can possibly visit him, his safety is very guaranteed, Albus. I suggest you stop trying to meddle in his affairs that do not concern you," Minerva stated harshly.

Albus sighed once more, conceding to the truth in his Deputy Headmistress' words. He had forgotten that ancestral homes were well protected after he had discarded them as options for Harry to live alone in as a toddler who was incapable of taking care of himself back then.

"I suppose. But we would still need to warn him of Black and his parents' history. There is a chance he is well aware of Potter properties and their location, especially if young Harry was never taught to change the ward access." Seeing the looks on his colleagues' faces, the old Headmaster continued, "I'm not trying to interfere. I promise. However, I would like to rectify my past deeds. I do wish to keep Harry safe."

"Perhaps you could start by discarding your delusional beliefs that he needs your protection and advised when he has not requested for it. You seem to do much of your misdeeds due to that foolish belief of yours," Severus stated, voice coated with unhidden resentment before he left the Headmaster's office swiftly.

Minerva frowned at the Potions Masters out of the characteristic display of emotions. She turned to her old mentor, eyebrow raised in question.

"What did you do Albus?"

Albus sighed, seating himself down into his chair.

"He successfully cornered me a few days ago, demanding to know what happened at my meeting with Harry. I showed him my memories."

Minerva's eyebrows rose. "That bad?" she thought, glancing back to the closed door. "No wonder Severus was unusually upset."

She turned back to her old mentor. "I suggest you heed his advice then, Albus. If Severus is truly upset to show it, it means you really are going about the wrong way at this matter."

"But Minerva, Harry –"

"Is capable of taking care of himself despite his young age. He has been taking care of himself for years now while he had lived with those horrid muggles," Minerva ignored Albus' flinch, "And he has the goblins to help him out if needed. And before you argue, might I remind you, the goblins are excellent Ward Masters despite the majority of the wizarding world dismissing their talents. He is safe. And I'm sure the goblins would have already informed him of Black and his history too." Minerva sighed at the Hogwarts Headmaster. "You are worrying unnecessarily, Albus."

And with that, the Transfiguration Mistress left the Headmaster's office, leaving an old man to his own musings.

"But what of his destiny?" Albus thought to himself. "How would he fulfil the prophecy if I can't inform him of it at the right time."

Albus glanced to the shelf he had to his right, where he knew a small hidden compartment held the destroyed diary of one Tom Marvalo Riddle. Once a bright young boy, now a mindless monster.

"Due to my own failings," Albus thought guiltily. "I should have kept a closer eye on the boy. Helped him understand why his thoughts of being better than muggles were wrong."

His gut churned at the revelations he had made over the summer after the Chamber of Secrets incident and the speculations he had over young Harry's connection with the Dark Lord. He had yet to figure out what all of it meant and what it meant – most importantly – for the prophecy. But he doubted he could help Harry if he was never to contact the boy.

Albus sighed as guilt, worry and uncertainty filled his mind while he drowned into his own musings.

"So you are going to learn to master your powers."

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Alright. I'll have Fradgrot increase your Occlumency training pace then."

Harry turned sharply to stare at his account manager in horror. "Whatever for?!" he exclaimed.

Griphook gave him an unimpressed look. "A key aspect to controlling your powers lies with your ability to control your emotions, fish. If you are not disciplined enough to control yourself, you will never be capable of wielding magic correctly."

Harry grumbled at the answer.

"No one taught that at Hogwarts."

"You would find that school to be deplorable in its standards."

"Hey!" Harry started, indignantly, to defend the first place he had once had a semblance of feeling a sense of belonging.

Griphook raised a clawed had to stop the tirade at its root.

"Listen, Harrison. Hogwarts may have been great once, during the founders' time when magic was taught as it was. But today, while it is indeed the best school within Europe perhaps, it does not mean it teaches magic the best. It truly only means it is the least deplorable of all the schools. But at the end of the day, it is still deplorable."

Harry frowned, not liking the answer. "Well, the teachers do teach well, Griphook."

The surly goblin sighed.

"I never said they didn't, Harrison."

"But you said –"

"I said," Griphook interrupted, "that the school was terrible. Its curriculum is terrible. It is not a reflection of the teachers of the institution's capability," Griphook paused, "Well most of the teachers' capability from what I've heard," the goblin amended.

Harry who was thinking of Binns and Snape conceded to the amendment.

"Well, what's wrong with the curriculum?"

"Other than magic being discriminated?"

Harry frowned, not understanding.

Griphook sighed. "Such things are better absorbed if you formed your own opinions on it. The Hogwarts curriculum and the magical world's practices have undergone many changes over time, Harrison and not all changes were good. Maybe you should try and find out more on History of Magic." At Harry's enquiring look, the goblin elaborated. "During your lessons with us, we've only equipped you with the knowledge necessary for you to manoeuvre around the current political platforms and knowledge that was related to your heritage, considering the short amount of time we had. There's more to Magical History, Harrison. Read up. Research. Come to me or Fradgrot if you have any doubts; though be warned we have our own biases on certain topics."

Harry stared at his account manager for a moment, before nodding. "OK."

The goblin shuffled his papers. "On to other matters. The meeting has been scheduled already. It is set for tomorrow, at nine in the morning. As always, it will be held at one of Gringotts' warded rooms, unless you wish otherwise."

Harry shook his head, "That's fine with me. Did you pick anything up from the response?"

"Hardly. It was a letter response after all. Though I'm assuming she would have been surprised by the implications."

Harry nodded, "I suppose. We'll just have to wait and see."

A moment later, Harry confessed the thought that was still bugging him since the start of the conversation. "Do I have to have more Occlumency training with Fradgrot?" he asked, almost whining.

Griphook rolled his eyes, though the smirk he had on his face betrayed the amusement the goblin was feeling at Harry's plight/ "Yes, fish. He is the best tutor at it amongst us Goblins."

"But he is mean, Griphook!"

Girphook ignored him.

Harry looked up from his Arithmancy – a Beginner's Guide textbook at the sound of rustling leaves. He knew from the past few days that he need not need to fear any animal – predator or prey – that he chanced upon in the woods, considering his home, which included the woods he was surrounded by, was apparently warded to keep dangerous animals away from him. His ability to speak with creatures also helped in the sense that he was always alerted when an animal chose to approach him and that he could always distract the animals with the talking if the wards were to fail (which was a very minuscule probability).

But being cautious was never a bad trait. He glanced down at the bushes and greenery surrounding the tree he was perched upon, trying to find the culprit behind the noise he had heard.

"Odd," he thought, "I don't sense any new animals around me and my magic had not alerted any creatures approaching me…"

Seeing nothing, he wondered if he should just head home, considering the day was starting to darken.

Another rustle of leaves had Harry looking down to his left. He tensed slightly, putting his book away in his sling bag and staring at the bushes.

A moment later, a huge creature stepped out from the bushes.

Harry stilled, half of him mesmerised at the sight of the creature while the other, more sensible half of him tensed in fear as the creature's identity registered in his mind. He had chanced upon the information about it briefly from the books he had scoured through his vaults about magical creatures. There was not much said about them and they were considered rare to the point that people believed they were myths. And Harry had too until now.

The Grim is a solitary creature, lurking where death and decay are often common. It is believed to be Death's loyal companion, guarding and guiding souls that no longer belong to the mortal plane to worlds unknown.

To see a Grim is impossible for a mortal – magical or muggle – unless of course, they were mere seconds from death itself. This trait makes it why a Grim is known so famously among the Magical World to be an omen for Death.

The hair at the back of Harry's neck rose as he remembered the words he had once read. He hoped more fervently that what he had read was for once a complete myth.

"Besides," his inner self supplied a little hysterically, "If only those who were about to die can see the Grim, who is to believe the descriptions people have mentioned about these mythical creatures. It's all made up." Harry nodded to himself internally. "Made up. Made up. Made up."

He glanced about slowly, looking for a way to escape while reaching out with his magic to talk to the creature. Maybe he could talk it out of killing him.

"So much for the wards never failing," he thought.

His internal panic reached new heights when he realised he could not possibly outrun the creature with him needing to jump down from a three feet tall tree first. Harry cursed internally, redirecting all his attention to focus on the creature in front of him.

His magic tingled and he searched for a link between him and the creature – a link of purple light that he had often found between himself and other creatures in his mind.

He found it within a few seconds, only it was not purple but a mix of red and copper.

Harry frowned. The only time he had had a different coloured link of magic between a creature and him was with Hedwig who was his familiar, according to Griphook, and as such had a different kind of bond with him. The colour between her and him had been silver.

He had never encountered red or copper ever. In fact, he had never seen dual colours in a link. And the magic surrounding it did not seem animal-like either.

"Perhaps it's the link for Death," his inner voice provided sarcastically, miffed at him not yet escaping.

Harry scowled, focussing back on the shaggy Grim before him properly, trying to take note of any weaknesses he could exploit, however unlikely the chances seemed.

It was a huge creature, he noted again, easily towering over Harry had he been standing beside it. It had very thick fur of the deepest black and sharp silver claws in each paw. Its ears were pointed and upright, signalling the beast was alert. And its eyes, which seemed to have an intelligent look in them, were gleaming silver. And it was looking right at him.

Harry paused. Wait. Silver?

"Didn't a Grim have gleaming red eyes according to the books?" he thought, confused.

"Made up. Made up. Made up." His internal voice chanted.

Harry ignored his internal panic.

Taking a chance at the intelligent look on the creature's face and feeling highly silly, Harry focused on the link he had between the creature and him and attempted to speak to it telepathically.

It failed.

Harry frowned. He had always been able to speak with creatures telepathically. Unless the creatures were intelligent enough to have Occlumency shields like the goblins.

"Or if they were not creatures at all but messengers for Death," his inner voice muttered sardonically.

Harry ignored it again.

"Well, if it has enough sense to block telepathy, it must be able to understand human speech," he thought.

Clearing his throat, he spoke out loud to the creature, his own magic still tightly grasping the link between the creature and it, just in case he had to do anything drastic to escape. Hopefully, he wouldn't. He didn't want to hurt a creature intentionally unless he had no choice.

"Um, hello?" he winced at his poor starting, "Mr Grim sir?" Wow, he was terrible at this. He stared at the unresponsive dog. "Um, can you understand me at all?"

His feelings of silliness vanished when the creature, which was still staring at him unblinkingly, seemed to give a small nod.

Hoping against hope that that had not been a part of his overactive imagination, Harry continued on, "Um, by any chance, are you here to escort me to Death or something equally horrifying?"

To Harry's surprise, the creature seemed startled by the question. A moment later, it was shaking his head fervently, whining. Harry felt his link with the creature pulse, sending his emotions of regret, sadness and strangely enough protectiveness.

Harry stared at the creature, puzzled by its response but not hesitating to trust that it was honest. He doubted it could fake emotions at such intensity. Thoughts churned in his head as he decided on what to do next.

"Don't even think about it," his inner voice warned.

Harry ignored it, taking a closer look at the huge dog in front of him, now that he was not as scared of the creature. Despite its big size, it did not seem quite healthy to him. Its fur was quite matted and not shining like how the well looked after dogs he had seen when visiting Aunt Marge - his Uncle's equally unpleasant sister. And Harry doubted it was supposed to look this skinny, though somehow it added to its intimidating appearance rather than diminishing it.

"Stop your foolish thoughts now," his inner voice commanded. "Stop thinking them!"

Harry looked at the creature whining softly below him. It seemed to be just sad now from what he felt through the link. Harry supposed it took his silence as him not believing its response.

"Honestly, where is your sense of self-preservation?" his inner voice asked, "Oh wait! I'm right here and you are ignoring me."

Harry gave a more genuine smile at the creature below him. "Say then, Mr Grim. If you are not here to eat me, how about you come to my home and I'll set you up with something to eat?"

"You are going to get us killed one day," his inner voice lamented.

Harry ignored his inner self in favour of beaming down at the huge dog wagging its tail at him at the base of the tree. Yes, he usually was not fond of dogs, especially considering most of his experiences with those animals were when he was with Aunt Marge and her unpleasant brood. But he really could not leave this one here when it was clearly in need of good food and care.

"It should be fine," he thought. "I've heard dogs are great companions. And this one doesn't seem to be faring well in the wild."

Harry climbed down from the tree.

"Alright then. Follow me, Mr Big Black Dog."

They started the trudge back home.

"I was scared of this?" Harry thought as he stared at the whining dog lying on his lap with a raised eyebrow.

A pitying moan filled his room again, causing Harry's raised eyebrow to climb further up his forehead.

"Don't look at me like that, silly," he said to the whining dog. "I told you to eat your food slowly. It wouldn't have gone anywhere but you had to scarf it down at lightning speed did you not? Well then, you'll have to bear with the consequences."

More whining filled the room. Harry stifled a smile. "I suppose this will teach you to remember to eat slowly next time. Now come on, I'll get a warm bath ready for you. Has anyone told you, you reek?"

Well, he obviously did not think this through.

Harry stared at the soap-filled bath before him, realising the problem way too late. A nudge on his leg had him looking down to meet glowing silver eyes. Ever since the fear had cleared from his mind, he had a strange sense of Déjà vu at the creatures silver eyes, like he had seen them a long time before. He stared at the dirty and mangled state the creature was in and sighed.

"I don't suppose you can bathe yourself? I really don't want to touch the water," he muttered. Perhaps it was silly of him, but unlike with Hedwig and most other animals he had met, he was not very comfortable with changing into his mer form in front of the intimidating but friendly dog. While he trusted it to not harm him, Harry was sure the creature was not entirely as it seemed. It was far too intelligent with the way it interacted with him. And far too domesticated and disciplined in its actions for a wild dog. Most of the creatures he had conversed with had always retained their wildness in their personality. Unless they were animals used to human contact, like the post owls. Yet, this creature, clearly wild was acting too trusting and friendly against its actual nature. He was certain it was not a creature that would harm him, but he was not about to go against his gut and reveal his secret to it, even if it was just a creature.

A bark brought him back to reality. He looked down at the dog that was currently wagging its tail and nodding its head.

"What? Are you really telling me you are capable of bathing yourself?"

A bark and a nod answered him. Harry gave a pointed look at the dog's very dirty state. "Are you sure?"

The expression he got in reply would be what Harry supposed was the equivalent to a dog looking indignant. A moment later, he was being nudged out of the bathroom by the shaggy creature and was soon left facing a closed door.

He wondered if he imagined the click of the lock and the slight flash of magic he sensed within the bathroom as he walked off, puzzled.

"Bark if you need me!" He called out, feeling strangely useless.

"Far too intelligent," he thought with a slight frown, wondering if he should be worried.

He was seated upon his sofa, stroking Hedwig as he silently conversed with her about her day when the dog came back.

Harry was surprised to see the complete change of the creature's image. Gone was the matted and tangled fur. In its place was shiny and smooth black fur that seemed to ruffle about slightly, despite there being no breeze around the creature. Its silver claws were even sharper and shinier and while it was still painfully underweight due to its malnourished state, the majestic look Harry had expected from the creature was starting to show.

Harry was still wondering how on earth it had managed to clean itself up with no help when Hedwig surprised him even more with her telepathic statement.

Oh. You finally found your Sire, Harrison. Congratulations. But why is he not in his two-legged form?

Harry blinked. He supposed sire meant father in Hedwig's way of speaking. But his familiar knew very well that his father was dead, just like his mother.

Swallowing the slight pang of pain that the train of thought was causing him, Harry looked at his favourite companion. The Grim had settled down at his feet by now, looking on at him staring at his owl, curiosity shining in its eyes at his behaviour.

"My real father – sire as you called him – is dead, Hedwig. You know that. Why would you say I'm searching for him?"

Hedwig seemed to become exasperated at her wizard's puzzlement.

"Silly, wizard. Of course I know that. I'm talking about your," Hedwig paused, as though searching her memory for the word, "Godfather, yes. The one you have been going on and on about searching."

Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. "What?!" A nudge at his feet had him looking down to face a concerned dog, silver eyes inquiring.

He giggled as he soared higher, before falling again. Strong arms caught him mid-air, firm yet gentle.

"Padfoot," a feminine voice called out, "Be careful with my son!"

"Aw, don't worry Lils," the silver-eyed man brought him closer, shifting to hold him close to his chest, "I won't ever let my godson fall. Besides, I've yet to decide if I should even let you two have him. I wanna keep him forever!"

A familiar red-haired woman walked into his field of vision. "Mama!" he gurgled, stretching out his fingers to reach the woman.

"I'll like to see you try, Black. Take one foot out of this house with my son and I will destroy you."

"Gee, woman," the man replied, "No need to go to such extreme measures. It's not like I'll succeed in making him leave you anyway." The man gave a pointed look at how he was now playing with the woman's deep crimson hair, giggling and gurgling animatedly.

The woman smiled, proud and pleased.

A comfortable silence stretched between the two.

"You do know that I won't ever let him fall, right Lily?" Something flashed in his eyes.

She gave a small smile. "I know, Padfoot as does James. It's why we never hesitated to make you his Godfather, after all. You would go to the ends of hell and back for us. I would not have agreed to the decision otherwise."

The man gave a small smile before it morphed into a smirk. "I'm still going to try to steal him when he is older and more sensible."

The woman rolled her eyes.

Harry snapped out of his flashback when he felt a small peck on his cheek. He turned to meet the concerned amber eyes of his familiar.

You have been staring at the air for a while. Hedwig inclined her head subtly to the floor. He has been worried too.

Harry looked down to meet very familiar eyes. He couldn't believe he did not connect the similarity. He had been viewing his old memories so many times the past few days.

"How did you recognise him, Hed?" He asked his owl while still staring at the creature before him in wonder.

"I am your familiar, wizard. It gives me the ability to sense your kindred, as you would be able to sense mine if I had. We are bonded, just like he and you seem to share a bond."

Something clicked in his mind. "The dual colours!" he thought. "One must represent his relation to me as my godfather, while the other is probably indicative of his ability to turn into a creature."

Another nudge brought his attention to the humungous dog below him. It was closer now. Harry could hear its panting and see the concern shining in its eyes clearly.

At the back of his mind, he was sure he should approach the subject carefully but anxious excitement had him throw all caution to the wind. He knew the man meant no harm. He had known since the third week of his summer holidays, after all. But now that he had him right in front of him, he was not sure on what would be the right approach. How does one greet their somehow wrongfully imprisoned Godfather who was staring at them while shaped like a dog?

He looked at the shaggy creature still staring at him with concerned eyes. Doubts and fear swirled within him. What would happen after the man changed back? Would he still be the same person from his memories? Azkaban was said to drive people insane. Would he be willing to be a part of Harry's life at all? Harry knew very well that he still had hopes of being part of a family. He had always wished it. But facing the actual possibility of having someone who would care for him and whom he could depend on was highly unnerving.

And the topic on how Sirius was imprisoned in the first place. Why had the man been in a confrontation with that Peter Pettigrew? Harry did not see that man much from his memories, save for once or twice. And he clearly remembered his father mentioning Pettigrew betraying their family before his mother had run upstairs to his nursery, on the day Voldemort came to kill him. Harry could formulate a rough idea of what had transpired but he was still not sure on the story. Why had Sirius gone after the man instead of finding Harry first, if he knew Harry was alive?

And why had he escaped the wizarding prison now of all time? Why after twelve years?

"Change back," he whispered hoarsely to the dog in front of him, which adopted a confused look. "Please change back, Padfoot."

He watched, half amused and half worried as the creature gave a shocked yelp, scrambling backwards from where it had risen to keep its front paws on his knees. It fell unceremoniously onto its butt.

Harry idly wondered if the sofa was cursed to have the people around it fall down as he scratched Hedwig's head absently to soothe his nerves. He received the feeling of contentment and amusement from his link with her.

A moment later, an unhealthily skinny and gaunt-looking man was lying sprawled on his floor, dressed in rags that Harry supposed were once beautiful robes. The expression of shock, now mingled with slight worry and wonder, was still etched onto his face.

Harry had the feeling he had yet to realise he changed back. Meanwhile, he felt his Head of House ring warm up slightly, alerting him that the man had been keyed into the wards temporarily, partially due to his magical status as his godfather and mostly due to Harry having no intentions of kicking him out. Harry supposed he would have to key the man in by the end of the day to his wards.

An awkward silence stretched between the two, each staring at the other disbelievingly. A while later, a crash resounded from his room upstairs, jolting both wizards out of their reverie. Harry silently cursed his furniture.

Licking his lips and feeling slightly nervous, he attempted small talk with the man before him.

"Well, I suppose I'm terribly late. But welcome to my home, Godfather. Would you perhaps like some tea?"