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Chapter Text

Sirius's soul plopped back into his body, just as he had been promised, and he drew in a shaky breath. Beside him, Harry was collapsing with the strain of having cast his Patronus so many times. This time, however, Sirius did not pass out, as he had the first time around.

Instead Sirius scooped Harry up and then he was running, stumbling and tripping occasionally. They made it back to the Shrieking Shack and Sirius put Harry down for just a moment, to allow himself the chance to transform and poke the knot to freeze the branches. Once they were inside the tunnel — safe from the dementors but not yet from Moony — Sirius took Harry's wand and cast an enervate.

Harry jolted awake, looking around wildly. As soon as he spotted Sirius, he dove for him and pulled him into a tight hug. "You're alive," he gasped into Sirius's shoulder.

"Do you remember…"

"Diving into the veil after you? Yes." Harry shuddered.

Sirius pulled him tighter. "You've got to get back to your little witch and save Buckbeak," he reminded him.

"I know," Harry agreed, though it took a moment before he loosened his hold. "As soon as you've got them, get out of here."

"I will," Sirius promised. He used Harry's wand to conjure an unbreakable box with a locking lid and a few air holes, just big enough to hold the rat, then he stuffed it into Harry's hands along with the wand. "Give that to your little elf friend."

"I will," Harry agreed. "I'll see you on the platform?"

"I'll find you there. Now go."

"Dobby," Harry called out, and the little elf appeared beside him with a pop. He immediately handed over an identical box to Sirius, who grinned fiercely when it rattled from within. "Dobby, are you my elf?" Harry asked.

Dobby looked confused, but nodded. "Dobby is."

"Good," Harry sighed in relief. "Can you use a time turner alongside a witch or wizard?"

Dobby shook his head, looking dejected. "House-elves cannot be using time turneys, Master Harry Potter, sir."

"That's alright," Harry reassured him. "Can you sense that there's been another me and Hermione running around out there tonight?"

"Oh yes, second version of you and yous Grangey both," Dobby agreed.

"What about the current version of Hermione, is she alone?"

Dobby concentrated for a moment. "Alone and about to reach Hogwarts doors."

"Good, pop me to her, please," he instructed.

Dobby grabbed his hand and immediately popped him away, landing them both beside Hermione, who let out a quiet shriek. "Thanks, Dobby. Please return to Sirius and do as he asks, okay?" Harry said.

"Dobby will, Master Harry Potter!" he said cheerfully.

"What—" Hermione started to ask, but Harry quickly shushed her.

"No time," he said, quickly dragging her away from the front doors. "Snape and Ron will be here any second. We need to use your time turner."

"I don't—"

"Hemione, please," Harry begged. "I'll explain it when we have more time. But we need to go back three turns."

Hermione bit her lip, but finally nodded, and pulled the chain out from underneath her blouse. It expanded in her hands, and she quickly threw it over Harry's head as well, then sent them back three turns.

As soon as they were back earlier in the day, Harry called for Dobby again. "Dobby!" The elf immediately popped to his side, looking happy to see him. "Dobby, you know Ron's rat, Scabbers?"

"Dobby knows."

"Did you know that he's secretly an animagus."

Dobby scowled. "Oh, bad rat man! Hiding and sneaking around Master Harry Potter!"

Harry grinned. "Well that bad rat man is going to be found out later tonight. Then, at moonrise, he's going to escape our custody. I need you to take this box," he handed over the box Sirius had conjured, "and catch the bad rat man as soon as he runs away from us. Then wait somewhere safe for me to call you again, alright? There's going to be dementors and a werewolf running around these woods, so it's important that you get to safety as soon as you've caught Scabbers, yeah?"

"Oh, yes, Master Harry Potter sir!" Dobby said enthusiastically, throwing his arms around Harry's knees in a hug before popping away.

"And now we have a little time to kill until we can follow our other selves down to save Buckbeak," Harry said, turning expectantly to Hermione. "Fire away."

"How'd you know I had a time turner?" Hermione asked first.

"Sirius," Harry replied simply. He felt awful about lying to his best friend, but it was necessary. She couldn't know anything else about his plans, as her mind was totally unprotected.

Hermione deflated. "He saw me using it when he was skulking around? Oh! And I was so careful about people; I never even noticed him or Scabbers or anything else!"

"Hey, it's okay," Harry quickly reassured her. "I think we've hit our quota on secret animagi until at least next year. I'm sure no one else saw you." Though he would need to — heh — but a bug in her ear about security charms before Rita Skeeter became a problem next year. Even if Harry wasn't there — maybe especially if Harry wasn't there, she'd need to be more cautious about her personal security.

"So now Dobby is going to catch Scabbers — I mean Pettigrew — when we lose him," Hermione said, clearly thinking through the possibilities. "All we'll need to do is evade Professor Lupin and the Dementors, and get back here. We can free Buckbeak when there's a chance, and then he and Sirius can escape together until you can retrieve Pettigrew from Dobby and get him cleared, officially."

"That's the basic plan," Harry agreed. There was no reason for Hermione to know that he had no plan on turning Pettigrew over right away. Harry already knew that Fudge would kill Pettigrew to cover up his crimes, just as he'd killed Barty Crouch Junior rather than risk the truth getting out there. No, Harry and Sirius were going to need help outside of Britain, but that was something that Hermione — at least, at this age — couldn't handle yet. She still believed in authority figures, as Umbridge hadn't ripped away those blinders yet, and she had no idea the lengths that authority in Britain would fail him.

"Well then we'd better get going," Hermione decided. "We don't want to miss our chance with Buckbeak, or run into ourselves."

It wasn't hard to catch up to their younger selves mere moments before Snape appeared, floating Ron before him. He quickly ushered them inside with a glare, to where Dumbledore was waiting. Harry's confidence in the man had taken several hits over the last few years, but he played along as they were ushered upstairs. He even played along as Dumbledore suggested that they use the time turner, though they didn't need to anymore. He played along as Fudge blustered in and declared them confounded, played along as Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping them overnight, and played along as they went through the motions of packing and leaving Hogwarts.

Only Harry knew that he wouldn't be returning in a few months with the others. He was sorry he wouldn't get to befriend Luna, or become closer with Neville, though he wouldn't regret missing out on Ron being a prat about the Tournament.

When they were alone on the train, Ron having ducked out to use the loo, Hermione turned to Harry expectantly.

"You saw the way the Minister acted," he reminded her. "I wouldn't trust him not to make Pettigrew disappear. Sirius will know who it's safe to talk to."

Hermione looked doubtful, but thankfully nodded her agreement.

When they reached Kings' Cross, Harry exchanged hugs with both of them, unsure when he'd see them again — unsure if they'd even want to see him, when that time came. Then he disappeared into the crowd, ducked into a hidden corner, and pulled his invisibility cloak out of his pocket. Once he was fully covered, he slipped onto the muggle side of Platform Nine and three quarters.

It didn't take long for him to spot the random man standing a few meters away, holding a sign that said "Prongslet" on it. Grinning, Harry headed towards him. As he drew close, he murmured, "Hey Padfoot." His godfather grinned and tucked away the sign, then began to lead Harry out of the station. They passed the Dursleys on the way, and Harry was extraordinarily grateful for his invisibility cloak as they did so.

Once they got outside, Sirius led him down a side alley until they were out of sight of passers by. Then he grabbed Harry's arm and disaparated them.

It hadn't taken long to reconnect with Dobby, who had been waiting at Grimauld place for them. Kreacher was already gone, his head mounted on the wall. They gathered up the trunks that Dobby had spent the last day packing, including the contents of the library and potions lab, collected Buckbeak from the backyard, and took off. It was a six hour flight to reach the Black cottage in Siren's Glen, so they did it in two hops, stopping for dinner at a little pub in Dover, while Dobby took care of Buckbeak and remained hidden. Hedwig had also been sent on ahead, so Harry didn't need to worry about her. Sirius's polyjuice had long since worn off, but he had also taken the time at Grimauld to shower, shave, and freshen up, so he looked nothing like his wanted posters.

When they reached Siren's Glen, a small, all magical village much like Godric's Hollow or Hogsmeade, they quickly made themselves at home in the Black family cottage. Buckbeak enjoyed exploring the back yard while Dobby got to cleaning, and Harry and Sirius relaxed after their long flight.

Tomorrow they would get down to business: after all, they had a resurrection to foil and Death Eaters to kill. And once Albus "Forgiveness" Dumbledore was no longer in charge of the ICW, they'd have a rat to reveal. Not to mention Harry would need to spend the next two years homeschooling to study for his international OWLs. But for now they relaxed and, without a bevy of Order Members bustling around trying to keep them apart, they could get to know each other. After all, they now had all the time in the world.

Chapter Text

Sirius fell and rolled to his feet, ready to curse his bitch of a cousin, only to find that he was in a shadowy world, fog swirling around his feet. An arch was in front of him, and on the other side he could see the room he'd just been in. Harry was running towards him, Remus lunging to stop him. Sirius could already tell from the angle that he would miss.

"It is not yet your time, Sirius Orion," a voice said. Sirius wanted to look for whoever was talking, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from his godson. He knew — he knew — that he was dead. He had landed in another realm, not the Ministry, and he could feel the surety in his bones that he was gone. But Harry was so young; he had so much life ahead of him. Sirius couldn't bear to watch his godson follow him, so he did his best to will the boy to stop, for Remus to be fast enough, for someone to blast the veil with a reducto, something.

"It is not yet his time either, Sirius Orion," the voice said. "He will follow you; it is too late to stop it. But I can give you the time to do so."

Sirius wrenched his gaze away from Harry, desperate to promise whatever the being wanted if it allowed him to save his godson. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

There was no one to be seen, but the voice continued. "I can take you back, to the moment you last died before your time; you and him."

Sirius had no idea when that was, but if it was before this night, he would take it. Although… "What's the catch?"

The voice laughed. "You two will bring me the soul of Tom Riddle — the entire soul — before the time when Harry James would die again before his time."

"That's it?" Sirius asked, desperately avoiding the 'die again' part of the sentence. How many times could his godson survive, against the odds?

"It is. And to help you on your mission, I will give you a boon." Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the image of the ministry shift, and he turned to look at the arch again.

It was like watching a portrait; he saw Remus catch Harry, saw him curse Bellatrix, saw his possession. Then Dumbledore telling him the prophecy, lessons on Riddle's past, a hunt for horcruxes, the bloody resurrection stone. Harry, facing his death head on, like he had so many times through the years.

"All the parts of his soul," the voice reminded Sirius.

"You already have the diary," Sirius reasoned, though he shied away from the tales he had heard about Harry's second year.

"Yes."

"So the cup, the diadem, the locket, the snake, Harry, and the part that's currently a wraith," Sirius ticked off, wanting to be certain they didn't miss anything.

"Yes. The one in Harry James will become mine the moment he crosses the veil."

"So just the other five," Sirius checked. He wasn't in a position to do any bargaining, but he didn't want to make any mistakes. Not when Harry's life was on the line.

"Yes," the being repeated, sounding amused.

"Is there anything else we need to do for you?"

"The more Death Eaters you send to me, the more innocent lives you might save from dying before their time. You cannot save those who are fated to die, just as you cannot kill those who are fated to live, but those for whom fate does not hold a firm grip on, you might save."

"Like the Diggory boy, Ameila, and others," Sirius breathed out a sigh of relief. He already knew Harry would do everything he could to save the other boy, and Sirius was glad to know it was possible. Not to mention that elf he'd grown so attached to in the future. "Are there any Death Eaters who are fated to live?" He probably couldn't be told that, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

The voice chuckled. "No. The moment they take the Dark Mark, their fate is changed. None can retain their original fate once they pledge their souls to Tom Marvolo."

Which meant the kids, the ones who weren't marked yet, had a chance, but Sirius had free rein to kill every adult Death Eater he could find. Siris grinned darkly. This was going to be fun.

The voice laughed brightly, and the image in the arch reappeared, showing Harry dodging around Remus and pelting towards Sirius. He braced himself to catch his godson, even though he knew it probably wouldn't do any good. The picture sped up, and Harry lunged forward with a cry of "Sirius!"

Chapter Text

Sirius and Dobby had been busy once they sent Harry off to use the time turner. First, Sirius had Dobby pop him to the seventh floor at the tapestry of the dancing trolls. He quickly summoned the room of lost things and had Dobby help him narrow in on the diadem. Since he had handled the diary for Malfoy, he was well aware of the particular brand of darkness it exuded, and was able to help Sirius find his way towards the diadem in no time at all. Sirius had conjured another box for it, though he'd like to get something mokeskin lined soon enough for the other ones.

With that horcrux obtained, Sirius allowed Dobby to pop him back to where Buckbeak was waiting. It took a few hours to fly down to London, but Sirius enjoyed it as much as he had the first time. It was similar to riding his flying motorbike, but very different without the noise it made and with the wider girth of the horse-like body between his legs. Still, any chance to have the wind blowing through his hair and to dive in and out of the clouds was welcome in Sirius's book.

When he reached London, he quickly slipped through the hole in the wards around the garden — the same one he'd used last time — and made his way to the Lord's study. Last time, Sirius had been in no fit mental condition to claim the wards properly, but this time his mind had been out of Azkaban for nearly three years, and he was in much better shape than before.

Sirius found the wardstone, which had taken him weeks of searching for before, and which he'd only managed once Albus showed up with his mage sight. That had allowed Albus to influence Sirius about the wards, letting him set himself as the secret keeper who could choose who was allowed into Sirius's house and who wasn't.

Not this time.

Sirius pricked his finger on the hidden rune, allowing it to take its fill of his blood for testing. As soon as the wardstone accepted him, the wards of the house fell upon him. Sirius opened up the back garden so that Buckbeak could enter, closing the wards behind the hippogriff easily. Then he activated the war wards — something Dumbledore had protested — and finished by renewing the unplottable ward that kept magic from being detected by outside sources. If Harry did need to cast anything here before he turned 17, the Ministry would be none the wiser.

The house was as safe and warded as he could make it without a second person to be his secret keeper, though he was well aware of the drawbacks of that spell, and didn't intend to rely solely on it in the future. Not with Harry's safety.

Sirius pulled back from the rune protecting the wardstone and straightened up, doing his best to look like the patriarch of the Black family that he was. "Kreacher."

Kreacher arrived in front of him with a pop. "Nasty blood traitor summons Kreacher?" he muttered.

Kreacher, for your years of service to my mother and Regulus, you may go put your head on the wall right now," Sirius offered.

The elf looked stunned, then pleased, and he popped away a moment later. Sirius followed, just to double check, and when he reached the hall he was gratified to see that Kreacher had done as instructed. Sirius had hated that wall as a child — he still did — but there was no other way to ensure that Kreacher would keep his secrets, let alone Harry's. And it was the safest way to get the locket as well.

Reminded, Sirius returned to the Lord's study. Since he had control of the wards, it was easy enough for him to open the vault behind the first bookshelf, revealing the dozens of family wands that had been stored there by his ancestors.

Sirius ran his hand lightly over the wands, and was unsurprised when the one he had used before practically jumped into his hand. It had been almost as good a match for him as his original wand from Olivander's, and it had served him well in the future that would never be.

Feeling much more settled with a wand in his hand, Sirius made his way to the parlor. It was easy enough to find the locket tucked away on a shelf with all the other artifacts his mother had prized. Sirius was unsure why Kreacher had placed it there — or perhaps his mother had been the one to do it, mistaking it for Regulus's locket that had gone into the cave in its place. Regardless, it was somewhat shocking that it had been left here, out in the open, where anyone might find it.

Of course, the kids had done just that, before, when Molly insisted on them cleaning this dark, dangerous house by hand. Any one of them could have been cursed by this or one of the other artifacts, just like the diary had cursed Ginny, and Molly hadn't seemed to care. Sirius shrugged. He had no idea how that witch's mind worked, and he wouldn't need to know any time soon.

Instead he collected the locket, placing it in the same box as the diadem. Then Sirius made his way down to the kitchen, through the hidden door for family only, and into the dungeon. He stopped at the first cell, pulled the box containing Wormtail out of his pocket, and placed it inside. Without opening the box, Sirius cast the ward that would make the cell impervious to animagi. Then he closed and locked the door. Dobby could worry about getting inside the box later to feed him, but for now, Sirius was glad to keep Wormtail contained behind two layers of protection.

That done, Sirius made his way down the hall to the potions lab and the small cupboard off of it. Inside was tucked a special, goblin made oven, designed for containing the most dangerous of fires. It was one of the few known ways to contain Fiendfyre, as it kept it burning long enough for an ashwinder to emerge. Fiendfyre ashwinders were the most potent, and their eggs were highly prized in potions, which was why this little cubby was attached to the potions lab.

As long as Sirius followed the proper precautions, he would be able to get rid of both horcruxes tonight. It didn't take long to dump the locket and diadem into the oven. Sirius carefully tapped out the correct rune sequence with his wand — he'd seen his father do it often enough, over the years — and the oven flicked on, lighting up with a red glow. Satisfied with his work, Sirius imagined a tiny lick of flame and cast. "Fiendfyre."

The spell shot inside the oven and burst to life in a gout of fire. The oven glowed orange, showing that it was doing its job as the locket and diadem began to burn. Sirius closed the door to the cupboard, more to block out the horcruxes's screams than to contain the resultant ashwinder.

Sirius waited until the noise died down, then activated the magical window that allowed him to watch what happened inside the cupboard. As it was supposed to, the oven contained the Fiendfyre until it turned into coals — something that uncontained Fiendfyre never accomplished. Shortly an ashwinder emerged, slithering down onto the stone floor and taking the last of the energy from the coals with it. The oven cooled, losing its glow, as the ashwinder made itself comfortable in a corner and began laying eggs.

Darting back across the lab, Sirius gathered up an empty vial and double checked that the stasis charms had kept it clean all these years. When he returned to the door, he saw that the ashwinder was done laying, and had curled around its eggs, forming a little nest. Sirius waited, and the moment the ashwinder itself faded to coals, he opened the door and cast a flamefreezing charm at the remaining eggs. Then he scooped them up into the vial and stoppered it, putting it on the nearest counter.

With that done, Sirius turned his attention to the oven, and the remains of the two horcruxes within it. Sirius stared at them for a moment, considering his choices. It would be easy enough to get the cup from Gringotts, since it was stored in Bellatrix's trust vault, and he was her patriarch and Lord. He could even do it tonight — the goblins hadn't turned him in when he'd withdrawn the money to buy Harry's Firebolt, and they wouldn't do it now. The snake would be a problem, except that as near as Sirius could tell, she hadn't been made into a horcrux yet. Riddle intended to make seven pieces of his soul — six horcruxes plus the one kept in his body. He had been intending to make one the night that he'd killed James and Lily, which was why the soul piece had been free to slip inside of Harry.

By Sirius's reckoning, that meant he hadn't made the snake into a horcrux until he came back from his wraith state and decided to finish what he'd started. As long as Sirius prevented that ritual from occurring, the snake would remain horcrux-free. He would still kill it, just to be certain, but he was fairly confident in his maths.

Which meant… which meant that the ring and the cup were all that remained at large. He knew where both were… he could get them both tonight, with a little help from Dobby. He could even desecrate the graves of Riddle's ancestors, vanishing the bones and ensuring that his resurrection ritual would fail even if he did try again without Harry in the tournament.

Sirius could end the threat posed by Voldemort's horcruxes tonight, if he had the energy for it. He eyed the potion lab around him and crossed to the shelf of completed potions. The stasis charms were holding, and every neatly labeled potion was glowing faintly with potency. Sirius grabbed a Pepper-Up and an Energy Elixir, knocking them back one after the other, then dropping the empty vials in the sink to take care of later.

As energy ripped through him and steam rushed out of his ears, Sirius grinned. He had some work to do tonight, and another ashwinder to create, and he'd deal the greatest blow to Riddle since Lily had disembodied him. Truely, a plan worthy of a Marauder.

"Dobby!" Sirius called.

The elf popped to his side eagerly. "Master Harry Potter's Paddy called Dobby?" he asked cheerfully.

"I did; Dobby, we've got some work to do."

Chapter Text

The problem was, after being forced to hide on the run and in Grimauld Place for three years, while the man ostensibly in charge of two different courts did nothing, was that Sirius fundamentally no longer trusted Albus Dumbledore. Between his inaction during the Triwizard Tournament and ignoring him for the past year, Harry felt the same. Unfortunately, if they requested sanctuary and a trial with the IWC, Dumbledore, as their Supreme Mugwump, would be heavily involved in the process.

It hadn't necessarily been easy to discuss it while on a hippogriff's back flying across the ocean (fortunately their warming and comfort charms were quite robust) but they had managed to come up with a plan.

Thus, with a little help from Dobby to add himself onto the Minister's schedule, Sirius, wearing polyjuice, had taken an international portkey from Paris to the Ministry. Auror Dawlish was on hand to escort him, since he was a very important international guest, and Sirius had to refrain from rolling his eyes and pranking the man for being an officious kiss arse.

Sirius only had to wait a few minutes before he was ushered into the Minister's office.

"Hello there, Mister Smith," Fudge greeted him cheerfully.

"Hello, Monsieur Fudge," Sirius replied, grateful for the basic accent charm that allowed him to mimic a French accent. "I am grateful you have time for me to visit you today."

"Of course, of course," Fudge replied, though it was clear he had no idea why Sirius was there. "Tea?"

"Ah, no thank you," Sirius replied, sitting down in the offered chair. "My healer does not allow it. I am on a strict potion regime for my heart." At least that was the excuse for the alarm on his watch and the small flask of polyjuice he'd be sipping from. They'd taken the idea from Barty Crouch Jr, of course, but had to come up with a different reasoning, since few were as paranoid as old Moody.

"Such a shame," Fudge said, voice dripping with sympathy. "Well then, how may I help you."

"Ah, right to the point, very good," Sirius said. "I realize this may put you in a delicate position, him being your countryman after all, but I have heard some less than pleasant rumors about Albus Dumbledore making their way through the halls of the ICW."

"Oh?" Fudge's whole body perked up, though he managed to keep his expression fairly neutral. "What kind of rumors?"

"People are unhappy with him as Britain's representative and the Supreme Mugwump. If there were another upstanding Englishman who could take his place, it might reassure those who have come to believe he is — what is that English phrase… spread like thin butter?"

"Spread too thin?" Fudge corrected him easily.

"Yes, this," Sirius agreed. "And with the Tri-Wizard Tournament visiting Hogwarts next year, he will have even less time for the ICW, you see."

"I do see," Fudge nodded gravely, the gears clearly spinning behind his eyes.

"If you were to remove him as your representative and choose someone else — perhaps your dear friend Lucius Malfoy, — then I am sure everyone would feel much relief."

"I'm sure they would," Fudge agreed. "Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Smith."

"It was my pleasure," Sirius replied, standing. "I do not want to take up any more of your valuable time, Monsieur Fudge. I thank you for listening to my concern with such an open mind."

"Any time, my dear sir, any time." Fudge quickly ushered him out of the office, and Sirius made his way back to the International Portkey office.

They were quick to approve a portkey to the Parisian shopping district for 'good friend to the Minister, Monsieur Smith," and in moments he was whisked away to Paris. Dobby had purchased both portkeys from the bank on their behalf, and Sirius found them a much smoother ride than those he had used as an auror.

While Sirius much preferred the cottage in Siren's Glen, the Blacks did have a flat in Paris, off the Rue Magique, for extended shopping trips, and Sirius made his way inside to where Harry was anxiously waiting.

"Well?"

"It went off without a hitch, Pup," Sirius reassured him. "I'm still within my first hour of the polyjuice as well; he didn't keep me waiting at all."

"And?" Harry bounced on the couch excitedly.

"And he's definitely going to be replacing Dumbledore soon; probably with Malfoy," Sirius reported.

"Yes!" Harry crowed. "When it gets out that he sent a Death Eater to the ICW, his arse is toast!"

"Indeed," Sirius agreed. While both men might think the appointment was an honor, it would quickly come back to bite them both as long as everything went to plan.

The next few days, they watched the morning papers gleefully — Dobby fetched them the Daily Prophet from back home as well — as Fudge announced Dumbledore's replacement as Britain's ICW representative, Lucius Malfoy.

Then came the shock and outrage when the ICW held an emergency meeting — which Malfoy was not invited to — to nominate a new Supreme Mugwump. Of course, Sirius had implied, and both Fudge and Malfoy had assumed, that the positions were linked. But their own research had indicated that if the sitting Supreme Mugwump was recalled or died, there was an immediate election to find a replacement. However, unless the recall happened during an open session, and the replacement took their position in the same motion, they were not eligible for nomination. Instead, Lucius would have to wait almost an entire month — since Sirius had visited Fudge the day after the ICW's monthly meeting — before he could be inducted at the next session.

Thus, Dumbledore was out on his arse, the new Supreme Mugwump was from the Nordic Confederation, and Lucius was stuck waiting for four more weeks. Four weeks that would see him arrested, rather than inducted, if Harry and Sirius had anything to say about it.

Chapter Text

Harry took a deep breath, then stepped forward to the counter at the ICW help desk. Dobby had scoped out the layout for them and confirmed that nothing had changed since Sirius's days as an auror. He'd brought international fugitives here more than once in his day, and knew the basic ins and outs of the place.

"How can I help you, lad?" the lady at the counter asked him. She looked motherly, like Mrs. Weasely, and Harry just hoped she didn't have the other woman's excitability. Padfoot leaned against his side reassuringly.

Harry tugged down his hood so that it no longer hid his scar, took another deep breath to fortify himself, then declared loudly and clearly. "I, Harry James Potter, seek sanctuary with the ICW on behalf of myself and my sworn godfather, Sirius Orion Black. So Mote it be."

A soft golden glow surrounded Harry and Padfoot as the woman gaped. Somewhere, a gong sounded.

Thankfully, the woman pulled herself together quickly. "Granted," she said firmly. The gong sounded again, and the light around them faded away.

A moment later, two international aurors — actually they were probably ICW hit wizards, Harry realized — came around from behind the counter and flanked him.

Harry swallowed nervously. He knew he had gone over this with Sirius, but this was the part he was most worried about. "I did that correctly, right? No one can hurt us now?" He just had to double check before he allowed Sirius to transform.

"You did it correctly, dear," the matronly woman said soothingly. "You're now under the guardianship of the ICW Protectorate, and these two young men are here for your protection." She gestured at the hit wizards.

"Alright," Harry took a step back and released Padfoot's collar. "Don't hurt him when he transforms, please."

"Transforms?" she asked, startled, then stood up and looked down beyond the counter. "Oh. I suppose that answers some questions."

"We won't cast unless you do something threatening, Mr. Black," said the taller of the two hit wizards. He looked a little like Kingsley Shacklebolt, except he had a small crop of black hair. The other man looked like he could be a Weasley, with his red hair and freckles, but he didn't have the same facial shape as Ron and his brothers, and he was much more fit than Mr. Weasley.

"For the record, transforming back isn't threatening?" Harry asked.

"No lad, it isn't," the redheaded hit wizard said with a chuckle.

With that reassurance, Sirius transformed back into himself. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that the hit wizard's wands remained pointed downwards, not as Sirius himself, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"That indeed answers some questions," the taller hit wizard said with a frown. Now, if you two will follow me?"

He led the way, with his partner taking the rear, as Sirius and Harry trotted along between them. Part of Harry wanted to hold Sirius's hand — it had been very comforting holding onto Padfoot's collar earlier — but he wasn't a baby, so he refrained. To his surprise, when they reached the lifts, Sirius grabbed his hand first. Harry looked up at Sirius and found him looking nervous.

Despite the fact that they had been granted sanctuary, a lot could still go wrong, Harry knew. He squeezed Sirius's hand and got an answering squeeze that did indeed make him feel a little better.

"To the left, gentlemen," the leading hit wizard said as the lift opened. Harry and Sirius turned and followed him easily, and Harry did his best to ignore the wand he knew was pointed at their backs. The hit wizard led them to a pair of desks in an L shape, and Harry and Sirius sat down in a pair of chairs inside the L, facing both desks equally.

The two hit wizards took their own seats behind the desks, and then the sterner one who had led them said, "I'm Hit Wizard Dom Hargrave. This is my partner Julius Marino. Why don't you tell us why you're here."

Sirius told his story first, about switching the secret keeper and being sent to Azkaban without a trial. Then he told of his escape and finding Harry. Then it was Harry's turn, and he told them about growing up like a house elf at the Dursleys, about his first two years at Hogwarts when Voldemort tried to kill him twice, about how he lost his faith in the adults who were supposed to protect him, and finally about how he and his friend, using a time turner and a house elf, had freed Buckbeak and captured Pettigrew before running away to the ICW where he hoped his godfather would finally get a trial and custody of him.

It took a while, and thankfully someone brought tea at one point, because both Harry and Sirius needed it during their tales. They had agreed to leave out all mention of the future — Sirius wasn't even sure if they would be able to talk about it with outsiders — and they were hopeful that, when questioned under veritaserum, nothing would come up that made the ICW questions lead in that direction.

When they'd finished telling their stories, Harry's stomach was rumbling, and he figured it was long past dinner time. To his embarrassment, his stomach was loud enough for others to hear, and he quickly clamped his hands over it in shame.

"Just one more thing lad, and it's best on an empty stomach," Hit Wizard Marino said. "Do you know what veritaserum is?"

"Truth serum," Harry replied. "Sirius warned me that you would need to use it to know that we aren't lying."

"Very good. It can sometimes make people sick afterwards, which is why it's best to do this now, and then we can get you some dinner."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He'd known this was coming, and there was nothing for it but to take the veritaserum and hope for the best.

Hit Wizard Hargrave summoned a healer, and she quickly appeared, wearing a green robe that he recognized from his trip to St. Mungos in the future. "Tilt your head back and stick out your tongue, lad," she instructed.

Harry complied, and a moment later she was dropping the serum on his tongue. He immediately felt woolly headed, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. He flicked the fingers on his hand, fascinated by the disconnect between what he was feeling and what he was seeing.

"He's ready," the healer said with a chuckle.

"Tell me your full name," Hit Wizard Marino said.

"Harry James Potter," Harry replied promptly. He didn't even have a chance to think about the words, they were simply pulled from his mouth without his brain even recognizing it.

"Did you tell us the truth in your statement about being raised by the Dursleys?"

"I did," Harry replied. He hadn't wanted to; hadn't wanted Sirius to know how bad it had gotten, but he'd been warned that anything he didn't share would be pulled from him by the veritaserum, so it was better to be upfront. "Sirius told me I had to tell you the whole truth, even though I didn't want to admit it," he added, because it seemed important to explain that.

"Good lad," Marino said.

"Did you tell us the truth in your statement about your first three years at Hogwarts?"

"I did." That had been far easier to talk about, despite the presence of Voldemort in the tale. The only sticking point had been his Parselmouth status, because that had caused him no end of trouble at school, but Sirius had assured him that the rest of the ICW wasn't as small minded as Britain about such things. "I'm glad you didn't mind that I can talk to snakes. Everyone at school hated me for it except for Hermione and the twins and Ron. And I'm not positive about Ron."

"Our boss can talk to snakes too, so we'd be in a lot of trouble if we hated you for it," Marino said. "Now lad, did you tell us the truth in your statement about what happened at the end of your third year?"

"Yes, even though it might get Hermione in trouble for using a time turner, and she'd never forgive me," Harry replied easily. "I really want her to forgive me, but she likes rules so much. She thinks getting expelled is worse than dying. Did I tell you that?"

"You did," Marino chuckled. "Do you know where Pettigrew is right now?"

"In a box in our dungeon," Harry replied. "My elf Dobby takes care of him. We were going to bring him here, but we weren't sure if the sanctuary would work and we couldn't risk him being kissed or killed before he proved Sirius was innocent. I want to stay with Sirius and not go back to the Dursleys."

"You won't have to go back to the Dursleys, Harry," Marino said seriously. "Now, stick out your tongue again."

He did so, and something fell on it. A moment later, the world crashed back into Harry, no longer going in slow motion, and he gagged. The healer promptly stuck a wastebasket beneath his chin for Harry to be sick into. When he finished, she offered him his cup of tea. "Swish it out, lad," she said, and he did. When he was done, she vanished the mess and tucked the basket back beside the desk.

"And that's why we did your questioning before dinner," Hit Wizard Marino said with a knowing smile.

"Thanks for that," Harry said. "Merlin, that was awful."

"It hits some people harder than others; especially those who are young. That's why veritaserum is so rarely used on teens, and not at all on children below school age," the healer said.

"Now, let's get your godfather done and then we can take you both to the cafeteria to get dinner."

Sirius's questioning was just as short as Harry's had been, mostly confirming that what he had already told them was the truth. Since they had been honest about everything but the time travel, and that was only a lie of omission, he passed the questioning easily. Harry refrained from letting out a sigh of relief that might make anyone suspicious.

Once Sirius had recovered from the veritaserum, they were indeed escorted to the cafeteria, and both Hit Wizards were much less formal with them, now that they had proven their innocence. Harry wasn't looking to spending the night at the ICW, much preferring to return to Siren's Glen, but Sirius had warned him that it was a good possibility. Until they could have Dobby bring in Pettigrew, and until all the parchmentwork was cleared, it was better to stay where they were safe.

And they were safe, now. For the first time in years — possibly since he was an infant — they were both safe.

Chapter Text

Harry quickly learned how to share memories, and then he was off to the races, providing all kinds of dirt on those back in Britain. He couldn't use his memories from the future two years, unfortunately, so Umbridge was going to get away with torturing him, but Lucius Malfoy was in deep trouble.

The moment he'd shown up for his first meeting at the ICW as Britain's representative, they'd arrested him for trying to kill Harry and everyone else at Hogwarts, then stuffed him full of veritaserum and got a full list of known Death Eaters and their current plots.

He did have dirt on Umbridge, as she was on their list of people to recruit in the future, so Harry was satisfied that justice would be served on her eventually.

The rest of his time was spent writing to his friends back in Britain. Hermione was a bit peeved at the lengths he had gone to to find an authority figure he could trust, but he managed to thoroughly distract her with a book about the International OWLs and how to take them instead of her local ones, as they would open more doors for her in the future.

Harry also managed to salvage his friendships with Neville, Hagrid, the twins, and the rest of the quidditch team — especially when quidditch was canceled that year, so his non playing was no longer an issue. Ron jumped right to the ugly jealousy he'd had over the tournament, this time over Harry spending time in France and the ICW. Without a dragon to bridge the gap, Harry mourned for their lost friendship and moved on with those he still had.

The rest of his time was spent with tutors, training him up for the International OWLs. Since his studies in Hogwarts had included Snape for potions and Binns for history, he was more behind in those classes than a standard third year, despite him actually having five years of education in his mind. He also hadn't taken Ancient Runes or Arithmancy the first time around, but Sirius convinced him to switch from Divination to the more useful subjects.

Harry did much better with the one on one tuition that was tailored to his strengths in practical learning, and by his second fifth year he was at the level he should be across the board.

As a treat, he even got to see Hermione and Neville — who was taking his International OWL in Herbology — at the testing center that spring. Once the exams were over, the trio was able to hang out at a cafe under Augusta Longbottom's watchful eye and catch up on everything they had missed out over the last two years.

Harry wouldn't be returning to Britain, however. He was happy in Siren's Glen, and he was happy with his tutors. He refused to return to a place that expected a child to defeat a Dark Lord for them, and instead stayed with Sirius, where he was safe and finally experiencing the childhood he'd always been denied.

All in all, Harry was happy.

Sirius took several months to get himself back into fighting shape, and then he signed on with the Hit Wizards. After a bit of training, he was allowed to pick the area he wanted to serve in and was assigned a field partner. Of course, he returned to Britain, determined to make the country safe for his godson to return to one day.

His motto 'the only good Death Eater is a dead one' was eagerly accepted by his partner — an old wizard named Maginnis with an attitude much like Alastor Moody. Together they swept through the country, using the list of Death Eaters that Lucius Malfoy had been forced to provide. If they could be taken in for questioning, the duo did so. But neither one minded when the Death Eaters chose to fight, and simply put them down hard.

Between them, Sirius and Maginnis became the scourge of Death Eaters everywhere in Britain. Sirius even managed to bag himself a snake and a homunculus when they happened to be investigating Riddle Manor, after following the breadcrumbs laid by Harry's testimony about the young Tom Marvolo Riddle he had encountered.

With those two dead — and Barty Crouch Jr laid beside them — Sirius knew his promise to that otherworldly being had been fulfilled. He had disposed of every piece — or potential piece — of Riddle's soul, and neither the snake nor the homunculus had released a screaming black wraith when killed. He was dead now, dead and not coming back.

Harry's guiding hand in the future had shown Sirius the way, and he had fulfilled his oath to take on all threats to his godson as though they were his own. Deep in the Hall of Mysteries, a prophecy went dark, fulfilled, and a veil fluttered with an amused laugh as Death got one over on Fate on behalf of her little master.

Sirius just kept killing every Death Eater he could, until there were no more left who weren't in Azkaban. And when it was determined that they were better off dead than alive to potentially escape as he had, he stood there and watched as the remaining Death Eaters were executed and then shared a drink with Maginnis over a job well done.

His godson was safe now, and that was all that Sirius cared about.