Vicis Vulnus

Chapter Five. Results

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Harry blinked, opening his eyes before swiftly closing them again to avoid the burning pain being emitted from the lights above him. He stifled a groan as he felt his body ache in a dull pain. He remembered the troll, and cringed as he realized he had been thrown into the wall pretty harshly and was probably suffering from various broken bones. He opened his eyes again slowly, squinting until he adjusted to the sudden brightness. Once he was able to gain some of his bearings he struggled to sit up.

"Oh no you don't Mister Potter!"

A pair of hand pushed themselves against his shoulders and sent him back into the mattress. Harry looked up in annoyance as Madam Pomfrey hovered above him. "You're awake. I'll alert Professor McGonagall."

"How long have I been out?" Harry asked, hoping desperately it hadn't been that long. The first Quidditch game wasn't far off, and Wood would be mental if he had missed his first game.

Madame Pomfrey was pulling a few bottles out of the cabinet, no doubt for him. "Two days. Miss Granger has been extremely worried about you. Now take these."

Harry swallowed the potions he was being handed, uncaring of what they were. He had learned not to question the mediwitch. She nodded as she saw him finish the potions and moved away to her office to call McGonagall. Harry waited a moment and sat up, checking to make sure she wouldn't come bustling back to force him to lay down. He glanced outside and noticed it was afternoon, and felt his stomach lurch in hunger. After a moment Madam Pomfrey came back and frowned at him. He caught her expression and flopped back onto the mattress, sighing. She nodded and looked away.

After a few minutes she had began checking him thoroughly for any remaining injuries, telling him that his ribs could be sore for a while, and pointing out his eyes. It took a moment for him to notice what she was talking about.

"Wait- where are my glasses?" Harry asked bewildered.

"You won't be needing them any more," the witch answered, leaning forward and shining her wand light into his pupils. "The wounds were too much to heal without fixing your entire eyes. Your vision is 20/20, do try to keep it that way."

Harry sat, dumbstruck. He wasn't even sure what to do with this information, he had never considered getting rid of his glasses before. Thinking back on it now, he figured this might prove useful- his glasses had gotten in his way multiple times, but he had never thought about doing anything about them. Suddenly the door to the hospital wing opened, and he turned to see his Head of House step inside. Harry quickly looked away.

"Poppy, I assume Mister Potter has gotten better?" McGonagall asked as she walked over stiffly. Harry tried not to imagine how much trouble he was in.

"He's as best I can make him," the nurse replied. "His ribs will be sore for a while, you might want to keep him off of a broom for a little while."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed, pushing himself up before noticing what he was doing. "I can't- my first match is coming up!"

"Mister Potter!" McGonagall said sternly, glaring down at him. Harry tried to look apologetic.

"I'm sorry Professor, but surely it's not so bad that I can't play? It's my first match," he looked up at her, then added, "Against the Slytherins, and they're the cup holders right now, aren't they? We'd be way behind if we don't beat them."

"We'll see Potter," McGonagall said. "Miss Granger told us what happened. First I would like to express the fact that male students are not allowed in female bathrooms, despite whatever reason they may have. Aside from that, we were came to the conclusion that the two of you did the only thing you could have done in the situation and neither of you will receive any punishment."

Harry sighed. He figured they wouldn't- they certainly hadn't earned any punishments- but it was nice to hear it. He looked up, "Madam Pomfrey said Hermione was worried. That means she's okay, right?"

McGonagall nodded. "As far as injuries go Miss Granger was perfectly fine. She was put under stress from the event however."

He nodded. "Can I go now?"

"Absolutely not Mister Potter!" It was Madam Pomfrey who said this. "I'm not done checking you over. And I think it's best if he stays here another night."

"What?" Harry looked devastated. "I'm fine, really. I need to get back to class, and Quidditch practice, and tell Hermione I'm fine. I can't stay here. Please? I'll take it easy, I promise."

After much begging and a series of promises to the mediwitch about not overexerting himself and going back to the hospital wing the moment anything felt wrong, Harry was sprinting down the hall, ignoring the soreness he felt from the muscles on his body. Once he had found an empty classroom he went inside and pulled out his map. Classes were still in session, and he found Hermione's dot inside one of the greenhouses. Checking the time he began walking down, knowing he could catch the students as they were leaving when classes finished for the day. The day was cold, and Harry pulled his thin cloak around him tighter. He hadn't bothered going up to the dormitory to grab his winter cloak, and felt himself regretting it.

Suddenly he heard the chatter of students and knew that the class had been released for the day. Inspiration seizing him, he looked up and scanned the castle windows for anyone who was watching. There was no one, and Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and threw it around his shoulders just before the greenhouse students turned the corner to see him. He sidestepped the mass of students, looking for a bushy head of brown hair. Harry sent a glare at the passing red head, deciding to wait until later to have a talk with him. The word 'talk' being used lightly. Finally he saw Hermione trailing along behind the rest of the students with her head down and went over to her quietly. After positioning himself behind his friend he quickly scanned the students again. Finding himself free of anyone's gaze he pulled off his cloak and shoved it into his pocket.

"Hey Hermione."

The girl jumped and spun around. "Harry!"

He grinned at her. She looked ready to throw herself at him and he noticed her eyes become watery. "When were you released? I've been going up there to see you."

"Just a few minutes ago actually," Harry said. "I figured I'd come down since class was letting out. Want to go back inside? I didn't bother grabbing a thicker cloak and it's kind of cold…"

Hermione's eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. She seemed half ready to grab his arm and drag him up to the castle, but held herself back. She was staring at him worriedly and kept making small, incomplete movements toward him.

Harry frowned. "Has Ron still been being a prat to you? I can hex him if you want. Wood will be mad if I get kicked from Quidditch, but I'm sure he'll get over it."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no. I'm fine Harry, nobody's said much to me." His frowned deepened. Then she stopped walking and added quietly. "Besides, I already hexed him after Potions yesterday." He turned to stare at her, and she went on in a bossy sort of voice. "He was being very rude to you, you know, saying these horrible things about fighting the troll. I told him to mind his manners and he told me to do something inappropriate, and I hexed him."

Harry felt a grin spreading across his face. "Hermione, that's brilliant!"

"Yes, well, I-I thought he deserved it!" she said. Hermione turned to look at him. He saw clearly that there were tears in her eyes. "It, wasn't your fault there was a troll there, or that I f-froze up and let you get hurt." Suddenly she sniffed. Harry froze and watched her, dreading what he knew was coming. They were still standing outside the castle a distance from the doors with the forest to their backs. Harry doubted he'd find some distraction to avoid the scenario and watched as the first tear slid down her cheek. "Harry, I'm sorry. If I hadn't frozen like that- you were only hurt because you were trying to protect me and you…"

"Hermione," he said, adjusting himself so he was standing in front of her. "It's not your fault. I chose to do that. And I don't regret it."

She sniffed, and Harry looked around for something to cheer her up. Spotting something over her shoulder, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he stopped. It was looking right at him, and Harry thought he saw a small unevenness of skin on its side. He stood there for a long moment simply staring at it, hearing another sniff coming from the girl in front of him. It was watching the both of them, but it didn't seem to be afraid or upset. It was almost asking for him if they wanted to go over.

"Hermione," he breathed, knowing exactly what to do. He took her by the hand. "Close you eyes for a minute, okay? And come with me."

"Huh?" she asked, looking at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Just trust me."

She nodded slowly and closed her eyes, Harry began pulling her toward the forest, forgetting about the cold around them and snow on the ground. As they got closer the creature came out to meet them and it was only a minute before he was standing in front of the beautiful white horse like animal. He lifted his hand and- receiving permission- stroked its long muzzle. After a moment he pulled back and positioned Hermione to stand in front of him and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Open your eyes, and please don't make any loud sounds."

Hermione frowned a little and looked in front of her. She gasped. The unicorn leaned forward to sniff her. "Oh…Harry."

"Go on," he said smiling, "She won't hurt you."

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, and hesitantly held out her hand to pet the creature. She watched in amazement as it let her stroke its mane and ran her hand through its soft hair. "She's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" Harry said, reaching forward with one hand to stroke her with Hermione. "There are a few of them that live in the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione continued watching in amazement. Suddenly there was a crunch of snow to their side and the three looked over toward the sound. Professors Sprout and Hagrid had come around the side of the castle together talking, and when they saw the two students they halted. The unicorn gave a small neigh and sprinted off, making Hermione squeak and push herself back into Harry. He quickly whispered a few words softly to her, making sure she hadn't been scared by its sudden departure. Then the two of them looked over at the teachers, who were glancing between where the unicorn had disappeared into the forest and the two Gryffindors standing out in the snow.

"Harry!" Hagrid finally exclaimed. "When'd ye get outta the hospital wing?"

"Hello Hagrid," Harry replied, letting go of Hermione's shoulder and stepping back. "Just about twenty minutes ago actually." He looked at the girl in front of him and decided to avoid awkward questions. "We were actually going to head back inside. It's kind of cold, and I forgot my cloak."

He smiled at them and the two students quickly made their way inside. Hermione had come to pick up on the 'we need to get out of here or get in trouble' cues that he gave off and she scurried away with him. They headed inside and Hermione felt herself giggle.

"Harry, what was wrong with petting a unicorn?" she asked after a moment. Harry shrugged.

"They don't like being near people much, it's rare for them to just let you touch them. They especially dislike boys."

"Oh."

They kept walking, heading to the library so Hermione could help him catch up on the work he'd missed. It wasn't until supper that everyone else realized he was back, and while there was a lot of whispering no one tried to speak to them- with the exception of Wood coming over to make sure Harry would play in the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match that Saturday. Harry and Hermione ignored the other students and went on talking about the most recent classes as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.

That Saturday came quickly, with the upcoming Quidditch game dominating everybody's conversations. Hermione still wasn't showing much interest in the sport itself, but she was giving him support for his position. If she found it odd when he asked her to sit near where the teachers would be sitting she didn't show it, and that morning left to the stands while he went down to the locker room. Wood gave the team their normal pep talk, and they went onto the field with a determined air about them. It seemed as if the entire school had showed up to watch, and Harry scanned the seats for his bushy haired friend, making sure she had placed herself where he'd asked. He heard Fred give a small cough and exchanged glances with his twin. Harry frowned. They had been teasing him about something every practice, but he had yet to figure out what, and it was annoying him to no end.

Finally Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the two teams shot into the air. The game followed much of the same events as the one in the first time line, but Harry was able to mutter the appropriate counter curse the moment he felt Quirrell begin trying to send him off the broom. While it kept one part of his mind distracted with his mental spell casting the rest of his body was on auto drive, searching for the glint of gold that finally told him where the Snitch would be. He made the dive and pulled up with the small ball held tightly in his hand, avoiding the entire 'I'm going to eat it before catching it' scenario of the time before. The game ended with Gryffindor a hundred and twenty points ahead of Slytherin, and right after the game Harry and Hermione went down to Hagrid's hut for a visit.

Hagrid had been especially favorable toward them after seeing the two of them with the unicorn. He had asked about it the next time they saw each other, and Harry had simply shrugged and told him he saw it by the forest and felt like cheering up Hermione by letting her see it. Hagrid had accepted the story and they went on to discuss other topics. After they left Harry wondered how he was suppose to bring up the subject of Fluffy and the Philosopher's Stone considering they missed their encounter with the Cerberus earlier in the year. Suddenly an idea struck him and he knew he had to track down Neville. It was possible he and Ron had run into themselves during their night time adventure the weeks previously.

Harry and Hermione were sitting in the common room working on their school work when Neville entered by himself later that afternoon. Harry waved him over.

"Hello Harry," Neville greeted as he walked over to them. "That was a great game earlier, you were really good up there." The round faced boy was still nervous speaking to them after running into Harry on Halloween. He hadn't had any friends before that, and it had seemed as if he lost the only two people who might even consider themselves close to him. So when Harry actually acknowledged his existence it was always with a nervous smile that Neville interacted with them.

"Hey Neville. I was wondering something," Harry said, looking around to make sure no one else beside Hermione was listening. "You remember that night you and Ron left Gryffindor Tower, right? Did either of you go near the forbidden corridor? You were on the third floor, right?"

Neville paled dramatically. "W-what? N-no! We didn't d-do anything near the forbidden corridor! Sorry you guys, but I have homework!" He turned as though he was about to flee. Hermione was looking at him like he was crazy but Harry felt a little satisfaction. There was only one reason he'd be so worried.

"Did you see a Cerberus?"

The boy froze. "A C-Cerberus?"

"Yeah, a three headed dog. He might not've been there, I was just curious," Harry said, watching his reaction. Neville gulped and looked over his shoulder at Harry.

"How'd you know about that?"

Harry smiled. "So you did go into the corridor."

"Y-yes, but not on purpose!" Neville said. He seemed upset. "We would've gotten into trouble with Filch if we didn't hide. We ran into the door, managed to unlock it after a few tries and went it. T-there was a giant dog inside, and it seemed really mad so we ran straight back out. P-Professor McGonagall said we weren't suppose to tell anyone about it."

He looked at Harry's satisfied face and flushed. "How do you know about that?"

"Oh," Harry replied, shrugging. "I was up on the third floor earlier and heard some growling. Judging from the sound I figured that's what it was. I just wanted to know if I was right, and I remembered you and Ron had been around there before. Thanks."

Neville said something about his homework and left, leaving Harry to do a mental jig inside of his head. Now he had the information to ask Hagrid about it, and they could start their 'search' for information on Nicholas Flamel. It would go much faster this time since Harry would remember where he saw it and they wouldn't waste so much time looking through useless books. He looked over at Hermione, who was frowning at him.

"When did you hear this?"

"Earlier this week," Harry said shrugging. She narrowed his eyes at him.

"You just have heard it recently to just be asking about it now."

Harry paused at the tone of her voice, knowing he had said something wrong. He shuffled his feet against the carpet and tried to think about what corner he was backing himself into. When did he hear it? Before the troll? Impossible, that was the end of last week. During the two days he was unconscious in the hospital wing? Nope. The two days after the hospital wing when Hermione was practically glued to him? Not likely. That day, during the Quidditch game or tea with Hagrid? Harry bit his lip. Then he had the answer. "Actually, it was Halloween. When I was looking for you. I guess I forgot about it with everything going on afterward, but I remembered it earlier and thought I'd ask."

Hermione stared at him for another moment before nodding her head slowly. Harry hated lying to her, but it was too soon to be shoving everything he knew at her. Suddenly a shadow fell over them and they turned to look up. It was Ron.

"Can we help you with something?" Harry asked coolly. He hadn't forgiven the redhead for what he'd said to Hermione yet, and the boy hadn't bothered speaking to either of them. In fact, Harry was still looking for an opportunity to get even with the bastard.

Ron scowled at him. "I'm asking everyone in our dormitory. Have you seen Scabbers? He's been missing for a while and hasn't shown up when I looked for him."

Harry shook his head and Ron left, the dark haired boy glaring after him. It brought back to mind the fact that he was still waiting for something to happen regarding that issue. He knew any effect wouldn't be immediate, but he was beginning to get edgy. Pushing the issue to the side the two of them went back to work, half of Harry's mind focusing on the redhead. Despite whatever feelings he had toward the boy, he wasn't the type of person to just up and torture somebody- Ron's punishment needed to be realistic. That's when he remembered the Weasley's stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas.

The weeks went by painstaking slowly for Harry, and eventually it was the beginning of December. There was snow covering the ground, and Harry had dragged Hermione down to Hagrid's again, this time for them to ask about Fluffy. Hagrid was more than surprised when he heard they knew about it, and accidentally gave them the information with a little pushing from Harry. He was able to get Hermione's interest by saying he recalled Flamel was the maker of the Philosopher's Stone, and they immediately began questioning what Fluffy was there for. He didn't want to give away all the information, or make Hermione feel uninvolved. In the original timeline it had been her who discovered the Stone, and he wanted her to feel a bit of her accomplishment, even if that made things go a little slower.

It was on a cold Saturday morning when Harry and Hermione were sitting in the common room that the next interesting thing happened. Most of the Gryffindors had decided to spend the day inside and out of the cold, and the room was filled with students doing various activities. Harry and Hermione had both finished their homework and were reading silently, sharing the same couch next to the fire when the portrait hole opened and the common room went silent. Hermione was the first one to glance up, and she took stopped to take an interest in whoever had entered. Harry continued reading, figuring someone would say something if it was important.

"Mister Potter, if you would come with me." Harry looked around and saw his Head of House standing by the portrait hole, watching him. A number of the Gryffindors turned to look at him as well, and he glanced at Hermione before getting up and putting his book down on the couch where he had been sitting. He gave a half hearted wave toward his friend and followed the professor out.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Harry casting her curiously glances. Finally she spoke. "We're going to Professor Dumbledore's office. He will explain what this is about there."

Harry felt something heavy drop into his stomach. What was this about? Did he do something to alter the time line? Had the hat ratted on him? He trusted that stupid hat! He looked at the professor worriedly, hoping she would say more, but she kept her silence. Finally they stopped outside of two gargoyle statues, and she said, "Whistle pops."

The stones quickly moved out of the way, and the two of them stepped onto a rotating staircase that brought them to the door to the Headmaster's room. Without knocking she walked inside. Harry followed slowly, looking around. Fawkes was sitting on his stand like normal, looking a bit older than Harry had ever remembered seeing him, but quickly brushed it aside since he knew the phoenix would burn next year. The sorting hat was sitting on its stool in the corner, and there were various whirling instruments scattered around the office. Finally he looked at the people present, noticing Professor McGonagall had stopped behind an empty chair and was watching him. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, surveying the young wizards carefully, as though he was handling a very delicate situation. Seeing the last person in the room Harry suddenly knew he was. A tall, pale man with shoulder length black hair was watching him intently, sitting in an armchair across from the Headmasters desk.

He looked away when he saw him, making sure his slightly confused mask was still in place. Sirius. Why hadn't The Prophet said anything? He'd been reading it just for that purpose. Damn it! Leave it to the Ministry not to even put a footnote into the pages apologizing for ten years of wrongful imprisonment. He approached the desk, and the Headmaster motioned his head toward the empty armchair in front of McGonagall. Harry sat, and waited.

"Harry, may I offer you a lemon drop?" Dumbledore began. Harry felt his eyes widen slightly- his godfather was sitting next to him for the first time in ten years and the only thing the old man thought to offer was a lemon drop?- and shook his head with a small 'no thank you sir'. Dumbledore nodded to himself and continued. "I suppose you are wondering why you are here?"

Harry glanced at Sirius- he couldn't help it, and he noticed the older man was still staring at him- before looking back at the professor and saying, "Yes, sir."

"I'm afraid there is a lot I need to explain before you'll understand what I'm saying. I'm under the impression nobody has ever told you this before," Dumbledore said, watching the boy across his desk. "About two weeks ago the Ministry released a rather startling discovery. It involves your parents deaths, Harry." There was a small pause, where Dumbledore seemed to debate how to continue. "Before you were born your parents were a part of a resistance group who fought against Voldemort during the war. It became apparent at one point after you were born that Voldemort was targeting your family, and the three of you, your father, mother, and yourself, went into hiding. You were all protected by the Fidelius Charm, which is complex magic that will conceal a secret inside of a single living soul- the Secret-Keeper. For your parents the secret was the location for your home, and the Secret-Keeper was believed to have been Sirius Black. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to reveal information, Voldemort had no chance of finding you. When Voldemort attacked your home eleven years ago on Halloween it became apparent that they had been betrayed, and their Secret-Keeper was sent to Azkaban upon capture."

"Without a trail," Sirius broke in in a bitter voice, taking his eyes off of Harry for the first time to glare at the Headmaster. Dumbledore sighed.

"Yes, without a trail." He rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily and looked at Harry to see how he was taking it. Harry's faced remained blank as he listened, a tint of surprise appearing at points. It was more at the fact that Dumbledore was telling him this than anything else, but he supposed the man had no choice. The headmaster continued, "As I have said, two weeks ago the Ministry of Magic made a very surprising announcement. They revealed that they had caught Peter Pettigrew, a man the supposed Secret-Keeper had reportedly killed, and that he has admitted under Veritaserum, which is a very potent truth potion, that he had in fact been the Secret-Keeper, and that he had betrayed the Potters and framed Sirius Black for their deaths, as well as the deaths of thirteen Muggles."

"Harry, if I may introduce you to your godfather, Sirius Black." Dumbledore motioned toward the man sitting next to him, and Harry openly looked at him for the first time. Sirius had swerved his head back to see his godchild and the room went silent.

Harry felt his heart skip. He had prepared for getting this done- but now that Sirius was free what was he supposed to do? He loved his godfather, but how was he suppose to act around a man he looked up to as a mix of a brother and father when the man had no idea who he really was? He bit his lip, cursing the silent room. What exactly were they waiting for? "Godfather? Why wasn't I told this before?"

Dumbledore bowed his head. "I left the basic information of what had happened to you in a letter to your aunt and uncle when you were first given to them. I'm afraid I was not very specific in the details, so it was quite possible your guardians hadn't known enough to tell you."

There was another small moment of silence and Dumbledore stood up. "Minerva, perhaps it would be best to give them some time." He looked at the two sitting in the chairs and addressed them. "There are some matters to take care of around the school that I can spend my time on now, I will be back in a short while. Feel free to ask one of the portraits to come and find either myself or Minerva if you need anything."

With that the two teachers left the room and it was cast back into silence. Suddenly neither of them were looking at each other, both choosing to glance around the room in feigned interest. After a minute where nothing was said Harry finally had enough and figured he would break the silence wit the only safe topic he could think of.

"So you knew my-"

"I heard you were good at-"

Silence. The two of them stopped glancing around the room and looked at each other again. Harry bit down on his lip, trying to hide a grin. "I'm sorry, you were…saying?"

Sirius seemed to be caught between emotions and finally replied. "You live with your relatives. Is it nice there?"

Harry noticed it wasn't what he had been saying before but let it go. He thought for a moment before answering. "It's…not horrible I guess. Just kind of a 'live and let live' situation now."

Sirius frowned. "Live and let live?"

"Well, yes." Harry tried to think of a way to describe what had happened between him and the Dursleys after his tenth birthday. The situation had changed once they realized he could do magic and wasn't about to put up with their treatment of him anymore. "We…don't get along very well, so it's mostly just ignoring each other."

"Why don't you get along?" Sirius asked. There was something in his voice that made Harry believe he wasn't surprised by the situation.

Harry shrugged. He didn't want to be talking about this, but he didn't want to block Sirius out or he might not want him later. "It's just that…well…" He paused, trying to phrase it as best he could without making it seem like he was complaining. "I don't think my aunt ever got along with my mother. She speaks poorly about her when she does and I think it's kind of carried over to me. I don't exactly blame them, I was just kind of dropped on their doorstep, so we just leave each other alone."

Sirius was watching him again, but this time there was a type of anger in his eyes. Harry felt himself shrink back slightly. Sirius wasn't mad at him, he was angry at the Dursleys, but Harry still didn't like it when Sirius was upset. "Harry," he said, trying to make his voice seem calm. "you're mother was one of the brightest witches of our age. There was nothing to speak 'poorly' about her for. She was a great woman and great with spell work. From what I hear you take after her a lot."

Harry perked up. "You knew my parents well then?"

"I wouldn't have been made your godfather if I didn’t." Sirius said, a shadow of a smile on his face. "James was my best friend since our first year at Hogwarts. It was the four of us, James, Remus, Peter," there was venom added as he said that name, "and myself. We did everything together. I was the best man at your parent's wedding- and made your godfather when you were born."

Harry watched him intently. Even if he had heard all this before, there was still something about listening to Sirius or Remus talking about his parents that just made him stop. Sirius noticed, and kept speaking, looking off into the distance while remembering some of the things he knew. They didn't notice the time pass until footsteps were heard outside the door and the Headmaster stepped back inside of his office. Harry had adjusted his position so he was sitting Indian style on his chair, and Sirius had ditched the chair altogether to sit on the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

When they noticed him they stop talking, and Dumbledore bowed his head toward them apologetically. "It is time for supper, and afterward I believe Harry has Quidditch practice. If you wish, we can arrange another time for the two of you to see each other, and perhaps I can have someplace more appropriate set up for you aside from my office."

Sirius seemed irritated that his time had been interrupted, but he didn't argue, instead looking down at Harry. "Would you like to? I know this is kind of a big thing for you, if you don't want to, that's fine."

Harry nodded, smiling at him. "I would, if that's alright."

Sirius smiled back and nodded his head. The Headmaster said they would arrange something and Harry was sent on his way.

"Hey Sirius, what is this?" A fifteen year old Harry walked into his godfather's sitting room, looking around at the chair he knew Sirius would be sitting at. The older man swerved his head around to view what Harry was asking about, and frowned when he saw a book in the boy's hand. Grimmauld Place was quiet aside from the crackling of the fire lighting up the room and small noises from upstairs that could be any type of infesting creature. The Weasley's weren't there at the moment, having returned to their home for Christmas. Molly had wanted to take Harry with them, but he had politely declined, deciding to spend needed time with his godfather. Hermione had stayed with her own parents, and Harry realized that it was the first time since attending Hogwarts he wasn't with one of his friends for the holidays.

Sirius motioned for Harry to take a seat on the chair beside him, and held his hand out for the book. "Where did you find this?"

"It was upstairs in the drawing room," Harry admitted, giving his godfather the worn tome. He sat down, glancing at the dwindling fire and bottle of firewhisky on the table in front of them. When he looked back up he saw Sirius frowning at him, obviously wondering what had possessed his godson to go digging through items of dubious intentions scattered about his house, and he shrugged sheepishly. "I was just looking around, I wasn't really touching anything Mrs. Weasley hasn't deemed 'safe' yet."

"Aside from the book," Sirius stated sarcastically. Harry shrugged again and looked at him questioningly, waiting for a response to his last question. Shaking his head with a smirk on his face, Sirius turned the book over in his hand and examined it. "This, is a book my parents bought from an auction when I was still a child. I remember them getting it, it was the jewel of their collection for a while." He frowned. "You said you found this is the drawing room? That's not right. Mother always kept it in her bedroom."

"Maybe Kreacher moved it," Harry suggested.

Sirius shook his head slowly. "Maybe…but my mother was very specific on keeping it in her room. I doubt Kreacher would have the spine to break one of my mother's strict orders like that. He would probably die of shock at what he'd done."

There was a brief moment of silence before Harry asked, "So what is it? I tried looking inside, all of the ink kept moving. I couldn't read anything."

"Yes, it's supposed to do that," the older man said, flipping the book open absentmindedly. "This is a journal of a wizard by the name of Wirewood. Complete basket case, but everybody loved him. He had a few great ideas back in his day, in fact, he's the person who invented the first, rough version of Time-Turners. Experts have improved the models since, but it was his theory that got the work off the ground. He was so paranoid that someone would try to steal his work that everything he wrote was done with enchanted quills and ink. Once something was put onto the page, the ink would immediately begin shifting position so everything just looked like moving blobs and lines. Only Wirewood knew the spell to change it back to its original form, and he went and got himself blown up in an experiment. My family thought it would be brilliant if they bought it and someone was able to figure out what he wrote. Never happened."

"So it's not dark or anything?" Harry asked curiously. Sirius frowned, gazing at the book for a long moment, as though thinking about something important.

"Harry, did you know your dad and I used to get into arguments all the time when we were younger, always about the same thing? Not a serious argument mind you, but more of a debate to see who could out maneuver the other and prove their point better." Harry shook his head, staring at the man next to him. He had never heard anything about Sirius and James fighting over anything, although he guessed they must have at points. Sirius nodded, still looking at the book in his hand without interest. "Yeah, sometimes we could even get Moony or Wormtail involved. Remus switched sides a lot, but Peter- ironically enough, the bastard- always agreed with James. I don't think his mind was big enough to fathom an issue so complex, so he just took the easy way out. We used to fight about the meaning behind light and dark."

Harry felt his eyes widen, and waited for Sirius to explain further. Without bothering to look at his godson, he did. "Maybe this is why people were so ready to believe I was the traitor in the Order, I don't know. James firmly believed that there was a definite line between right and wrong. I disagreed. I still do, actually. You see, the world isn't made out of light and dark, Harry. There's a lot of middle ground. When Wirewood first made time spells, he was looking to create something great, something revolutionary. Then he found he could sell it for profit. When Time-Turners first came out, they were used for a lot of robberies and murders because he would sell the devices to whoever wanted it, and most of those people were criminals. Finally, the Ministry of the time stepped in and took control of the situation. If I told you, you had used a device of greed, thieves and murderers to save me two years ago, what would you have to say about that? That it was dark? I don't think so."

Harry sat silently, trying to think of what to say. He didn't believe there had been anything wrong with saving Sirius from the dementors in his third year, but he wasn't sure what to think about Time-Turners being evil. Of course, from what Sirius was saying, they weren't.

"Harry, I want you to understand this." Sirius turned to face his godchild, meeting his eye for the first time since talking. "You're caught up in the middle of a war built off of ideals. Everyone is saying Voldemort's dark and Dumbledore's light, but that's not really the case. There isn't any light or dark in a war, everything gets messed up and whatever lines that might be used in peacetime are ignored or erased. Every action made has a shadow, a smudge. Someone, somewhere, is hurt by it. Everyone tells you to look on the bright side of things and to think of what's going right, but sometimes it's okay to have some doubts. Try looking at things from someone else's perspective for a while Harry, you'll see what I mean." Sirius paused, and looked back down at the book in his hands. Finally he shook his head and turned to Harry. "Come on, let's have some fun. Have you ever tried firewhisky?"

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Author's Note

This chapter seems to have taken longer than normal to post, sorry. I'm kind of sick at the moment, and didn't feel like dealing with my computer. But here you go. ^^ I admit, this chapter was a little hard to write, and I think it might show in some places. Sorry about that.

And something in the last chapter someone pointed out that bothered me. (Not that someone pointed it out, that I had made the mistake.) Harry did put a spell on the container holding Peter to prevent him from escaping- it was done before he actually caught Peter though, so I forgot to add it into the scene. It's actually stated later in the story, but I figured that I should've mentioned it during the last chapter. Sorry, it's missing small details like that that really bug me. The final thing I want to say is about the glasses. I didn't make him lose them just so he 'looks cooler' or anything. I think Harry's fine the way he looks. I mean, I can read stories that change his appearance, they don't bother me, but I didn't see a reason to do anything like that here. Losing the glasses is actually important later. And that's all I'm saying about that.