So this one went long, much longer than intended, and it also has found itself the culmination of the first part of this series. More on that at the end, though. Read on.

Chapter Ten: Memories of Marauders

"Okay, got one," Terry said, lounging on a sofa and watching a snitch buzz about his head. He held up his hands as though unveiling a sign. "The Potter Academy."

"I am not naming the school after myself," Harry said with a shake of his head. "Besides, we'll get applications from people wanting to learn how to…make ceramics or something."

"Oh, boooo," Daphne said, tossing a pillow at him. "Horrid pun."

"The Black Academy?" Hermione suggested.

"It's a bit too monosyllabic, innit?" Terry pointed out. "Doesn't roll off the tongue nice, like."

"The Lily Potter Academy of Magic," Mafalda piped up from her chair, where her tiny lap was nearly fully hidden under Crookshanks's furry mass. "It'll be funny to name it after a muggle-born, you know? Stick it to the purebloods."

"…I actually don't mind that one," Harry said, surprised.

"It's wordy, but that sort of fits with the others we know of," Daphne agreed. "And it's sort of sweet, isn't it? Naming your school of magic after your mum."

"Sort of like she's helping you escape all this," Hermione said. "I like it, too. Good job, Mafalda."

Mafalda blushed under the praise, though she looked pleased as she kicked her legs and shot a beaming smile at Harry.

"Top of the list, that one," Harry nodded, jotting the name down. "We should still keep thinking, though. Hard to change the name once it's on the forms, I expect. Wanna make sure we've no second thoughts."

"D'you think any headmasters have tried to change the name of Hogwarts?" Astoria asked. "I mean…that'd be my first thing if I was headmistress is change the name."

"That's the sort of decision that needs to be voted on by the Board of Governors," Hermione said. "And since all of them are the most stubborn traditionalists I've ever seen, they'd probably sack you just for suggesting it."

"Too right," Terry chuckled. "My dad was actually on the board of governors for a bit when I was in first year, wanted to get involved in my schooling and all that. They voted him off after he suggested making Muggle Studies compulsory, starting in first year."

"…But that's an excellent idea!" Hermione huffed. "That would make it so much easier to blend and mingle with muggles!"

"Exactly the point," Daphne said. "Why blend or mingle with lesser beings? Then the impressionable little purebloods might get mad ideas about befriending them or even marrying them."

"If we allow that, how are we supposed to get all the family trees fused together into one massive inbred shrub?" Harry asked. Daphne burst out a bubbling giggle at that, covering her mouth as she snorted. Even Hermione dissolved into a breathless laugh next to him, and Terry snickered with an appreciative nod.

"I call Massive Inbred Shrub as my band name if I ever start one," he said.

000

Apparently, opening a new school within the wizarding world was actually rather an easy feat, especially in the case of a private school, as they were planning. Keeping things private kept them out of the sway of the Department for Magical Education and away from the meddling of a Board of Governors. Now that Harry had access to both the Black and Potter family vaults at Gringotts (which were lousy with money and miscellaneous heirlooms that he would have to go through sometime), such financial trifles as funding were just that: trifles.

Harry had also discovered quite by accident (while going over a few bank records) that his own grandfather had been the one to found the Sleekeazy Hair Care line of products and thus he had inherited quite a few shares of stock in the company. While he couldn't exactly go to an investor meeting and take charge of it all—which sounded dreadfully boring anyway—he received monthly payouts from the company. Given that they were the only magical hair-care line in existence and had rather corned the market, the payments were substantial.

"I just can't even believe it," Harry said, brandishing the letter explaining such angrily at no one in particular after reading through it at the kitchen table. Christmas had come and gone, and New Year's Eve was that night. It should have been a time for celebration, but Harry was dealing with this latest atrocity.

"Harry, it's not as though you could have used the money," Hermione told him. "Not until you were seventeen, at least."

"That's not the point," Harry said. "Hermione, I could have gotten free Sleekeazy's anytime I wanted! D'you know how much trouble it would have saved me combing my hair in the morning?"

"…Well, that is rather a serious secret," Hermione said with a smile at him. "Heads will simply have to roll for this one."

"Thank you!" Harry said. "You've always got my back, Hermione."

"Always," Hermione said, giggling and smooching him on the cheek.

"Why couldn't he have the money until he's seventeen?" Mafalda asked, spooning some beans into her mouth.

"Seventeen is the age of majority in the wizarding world," Daphne explained as she sipped at her coffee. "Most likely, his parents set him up a trust vault. Enough money for school supplies and maybe the occasional splurge. The real family fortune, though, that's on lockdown until he's an adult and at least passably responsible enough not to spend it all on Honeyduke's chocolate and dungbombs."

"Ideally," Harry corrected her. "Still a tempting thought."

"But, now that Andromeda is officially his guardian, she granted him access to the Potter vault early, since she didn't feel right keeping him from the family fortune," Hermione summarized.

"And with that comes a backlog of bank records," Harry said, sifting through the stack. "I need an accountant."

"Could you have a goblin do it?" Hermione asked.

"That's a pricey option," Daphne said. "Typically speaking, goblins run Gringotts and that's it. They get a big fat cheque from the Ministry every month for keeping track of our gold, and that keeps them happy. Offering other services to wizards like accounting or something is thought to be beneath them, so they charge a fortune for it."

"Too right," Sirius said, striding into the room to pour out the last few dregs of his tea into the sink before placing the cup aside. "A goblin would never lower itself to a job that involves providing an actual service to a human unless there's a huge payday involved. Goblin society is about two things: gold and brutal bloody war."

"That's not even an exaggeration," Hermione sighed. "I normally try to advocate for looking past the bias wizards hold against sentient nonhumans, but goblin culture really is…very different from ours."

"Always so very polite," Sirius said with a grin, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Listen, hate to separate the happy couple, but I wanted to borrow our lad for a few. Alright with you?"

"Of course," Hermione said, smiling at the pair. "I've plenty to keep me occupied, I shouldn't become too terribly despondent without him."

"Atta girl," Sirius said. "C'mon, kid."

"Uh, alright," Harry said with a dubious smile, getting to his feet and following Sirius out of the kitchen. "Everything alright?"

"Oh, it's all aces, don't worry," Sirius chuckled. "No dark secrets to be revealed, just a bit of a belated Christmas gift."

"Sirius, you got me plenty," Harry insisted. "I'm just happy to be here."

"Oi, don't you try to rob me of my chance to spoil my godson," Sirius said with a mocking stern finger pointed at him as they mounted the stairs. "I told your parents, I did, when they said Lils was pregnant. I said 'You realize that boy's going to grow up the most spoiled brat the world has ever seen?', and I intend to make up for lost time."

"Were you the first one they told?" Harry asked, and Sirius grinned fondly.

"James was in my kitchen not an hour after Lily told him," he said. "Came bursting out my Floo with a bottle of Ogden's, 'Sirius! I'm gonna be a daddy!' He couldn't wait. Oh, he would've done famously at it, I'm sure."

"He really liked me?" Harry asked with a grin.

"He was over the moon for you," Sirius chuckled. "You'd see him from across the room, and your face would just light up, and you would make this joyous little baby noise. He'd go walking up, 'Hey, wee bogey boy!'"

Harry felt a painful mingling of joy and melancholy at the story. By now, they had reached the attic, atop a rickety staircase in the top floor hallway. Inside, an old but recently-dusted room awaited, the lingering remnants of a foul odor covered up by liberal use of Air-Freshening Charm. The attic was a large singular room situated beneath the angular eaves of the roof, and at the moment it contained a number of oddly-shaped furniture items covered in white sheets. High up the wall, a single round window let in a shaft of white daylight through with motes of dust could be seen floating. The only remarkable bit of décor was a stone bowl situated atop a dais of the same material. There appeared to be some sort of liquid in the bowl; a dancing and flickering light shone up onto the rafters above it.

As they approached, Harry passed a pile of moldy rags, and Sirius let a noise of disgust.

"Kreacher," he muttered. "I told him to clean this filth up."

Harry had never actually seen Kreacher, though he knew that the Black family house elf was apparently quite mad from isolation after the manor was left vacant following Walburga Black's death. The only reason Sirius hadn't cut the elf loose was the security risk he represented if allowed to roam free.

They reached the bowl, and something in one of the books Hermione had made Harry read stuck out to him as he looked upon it.

"Is this a pensieve?" he asked.

"It sure is," his godfather said with a grin. "Used to be my uncle Alphard's. He left it to me in his will, but I never got a chance to go to his place and get it. I sent Dobby after it a few weeks back and got it set up here. You know how it works?"

"Somewhat," Harry said, recalling what he could. "You can take your memories and put them in here and then go in and relive them?"

"Exactly," Sirius said, clapping him proudly on the back. "And I have a special collection of them for you here. Care to hop in?"

"Um…sure," Harry said.

"Hands on the rim like so," Sirius demonstrated, "and face-first, right in."

"This isn't some elaborate prank to get me to soak my head, is it?" Harry asked, and Sirius cackled.

"I wouldn't go to so much trouble," he said. "C'mon, together. One, two…three."

Harry stuck his hands on the rim of the bowl and pressed his face down into the wide bowl. All of a sudden, he was engulfed in darkness, a weightless feeling taking hold as he floated in an inky black void. Seconds later, a scene started to form around him, a blurry mass of colors sharpening and focusing until he was standing in what he recognized as the Gryffindor common room. Outside, it looked to be a balmy late-summer day, and the high windows were thrown open to let in a cooling breeze. Looking around, the only indication that he hadn't been suddenly transported back to his actual common room at Hogwarts was a smattering of students he didn't recognize, all with somewhat dated hairstyles and fashion choices.

"Is this…?" Harry turned to ask Sirius a question, but he jolted at the man—no, the boy next to him. His long curly hair hung about his head in a mop, and despite his youth, there was something recognizable in the boyish smile on his features. "Sirius?"

"Handsome little blighter, wasn't I?" Sirius's voice asked, and Harry saw the real deal standing nearby, watching two girls play a game of chess by the windows. "Second year. Looka me, not even a bit of peach fuzz."

"I wish I could say something about the state of your hair, but it'd make me a bit of a hypocrite," Harry said. Sirius snickered at that, nodding toward the door to the boys' dormitories.

"Here he comes," he said.

"Oi, finally," the younger Sirius said, his voice thick with the bleat of puberty. Harry raised his eyebrows at Sirius, who flashed him a two-finger salute at the look on his face. "Took you long enough, you know? Couldn't figure out how to get the cup to work?"

He was talking toward the doorway, and Harry's heart jolted as a boy emerged. At first glance, Harry thought that maybe he was looking at himself from around second or third year, but the eyes were a bit different, and James Potter wasn't wearing glasses.

"Dad…" Harry breathed, hurrying over. James Potter wore a cocky grin as he strode out. He was also wearing what appeared to be a brand-new Gryffindor quidditch uniform.

"Just building the dramatic tension, is all," he said. "C'mon, admit it, I'm worth the wait."

"You gonna be able to get your broom off the ground with that massive ego of yours?" Sirius asked him, and James swatted him in the chest. "Aha! Oi, I'm only asking what Evans asked me!"

"Is she here?" James asked, suddenly looking around. His hand flew to his hair, mussing it up to presumably look as though he'd just climbed from his broom. Sirius watched with a roll of his eyes (both of them did, in fact), but Harry was rapt, memorizing every detail of his father's mannerisms.

"Went upstairs to get a pair of sunglasses, she said," Sirius told his friend. "Don't worry, she won't miss the show."

"The only show I see is a two-ring circus of you silly boys," a girl spoke up, and Harry nearly cricked his neck as he wheeled around. Standing near the girls' dorms, a redheaded girl surveyed the pair imperiously from behind a pair of large and gaudy sunglasses, though Harry could just catch the barest hint of the green gleam of Lily Evans's eyes. She wore a denim pinafore over a turtleneck sweater, with knee-high socks and a simple pair of trainers.

"Mum," Harry said with a laugh. "Wow."

"Oh, she loved those sunglasses," Sirius chuckled. "I forgot all about those until now."

"Well, free tickets whenever you want them, Evans," James told her, attempting to look casual while striking a pose so Lily could see his uniform. "Y'like the uniform?"

"Aren't you supposed to change in the locker rooms?" Lily asked flatly. "Or did you just want to show off to the common room?"

"Well – "

"You know, don't answer that," Lily drawled with a roll of her eyes. "I think I already know."

"Oi, Evans," another girl's voice spoke, and a dark-haired girl made her way down from the girls' dorms. "Ready for it?"

"Yeah, just entertaining the monkeys," Lily said with a grin at the girl. The pair headed for the portrait hole, but James called after them.

"Hey, you coming to the game!?" he shouted. "My first one!"

Lily stopped, turning and fixing James with a smug little smile and a quirked eyebrow. Reaching up, she lowered her sunglasses to peer over them with the full brunt of her emerald eyes.

"I suppose I could come and watch," she said, "but you'd best win, James Potter."

She turned with a whip of her hair and joined her friend by the portrait hole, the two giggling as they left. James collapsed against Sirius, hands over his heart as the two threatened to topple over.

"Blimey, she's just perfect," James breathed, and Sirius laughed as he batted his hands at him.

"Oi, get off me, you lovesick oaf!"

The world around Harry slowed to a halt at that, fading to blackness, and Harry was startled to remember that he was in the pensieve, turning to look at Sirius.

"Did he win the game?" Harry asked.

"Of course he did," Sirius grinned. "He was talented. Youngest chaser for the Gryffindor team in about forty years. Flew like a seeker, scored like a pro."

As he spoke, the scene around them firmed up again, another blotchy picture appearing before details began to take shape. This memory was different, Harry could immediately tell. There were two girls walking along the Charms corridor in Hogwarts, though they were much older now, closer to Harry's age or possibly even older.

"Where are you?" Harry asked as they followed the pair. Harry recognized his mum along with the same dark-haired girl from before. They were in their school uniforms this time, possibly having just gotten out of class.

"This one's not my memory," Sirius said, nodding to the dark-haired girl. "Mary Macdonald—well, now she's Mary Cattermole. She was one of your mum's best friends during school. Remus owled her, asked if she'd be willing to donate a memory or two of her school years for you to watch. She was quite enthusiastic."

"But what's – "

"Evans," a familiar voice called. James Potter had come out of the other side of puberty with the same timbre that Harry was heading toward, and he now wore a pair of gleaming silver glasses that looked expensive and new. Gone was the confident smile that was almost a sneer; in its place was a handsome sort of grin, one even a bit charming.

And it was working. Despite the admittedly sassy curve of her eyebrow (the same expression Harry often bore), Lily was smiling at him as he approached.

"James Potter," she said, her voice somehow equal parts polite and mocking. Harry wasn't sure how she managed it, but she did. "Help you?"

"Mind if we talk alone?" James asked, glancing at Marry. "Alright, Mary?"

"Alright," Mary said. Canting her head to the side, she smirked sidelong at Lily. "Lils?"

"I'll be fine," she said with a grin at James. "If he tries anything, I bet I could take him."

"I just bet you could," James laughed, waving at Mary as she strolled off around the corner. Luckily for Harry and Sirius, she seemed to be a snoop, lurking just out of sight and allowing the two to watch the romance bloom. "Um…how was your summer? Did you go to that concert?"

"Reading Rock?" Lily asked with a slightly distasteful look. "It was alright. Some of the acts got almost bullied offstage, though. I guess the locals weren't ready for reggae or soul music just yet."

"I trust you stayed out of trouble, though, right?" James asked with a knowing smirk, and Lily fixed him with a smile that was positively impish.

"Why, James Potter, are you trying to imply I would do anything otherwise?" she asked.

"Oh, there's no implication," James snickered. "Only the burden of past experience."

"As if I could learn anything less from your sterling example," Lily huffed.

"So you have been paying attention," James told her winningly, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Listen… I was wondering, though. First Hogsmeade visit is next Saturday. And I was wondering…"

"You already said that you've been wondering," Lily told him, folding her arms and gazing expectantly at him.

"You're not planning on making this easy on me, are you?" James asked her, and she scoffed.

"I would never," she said. "This is much too fun."

"Horrible woman," James muttered.

"Rotten boy," Lily shot back, though Harry noticed the way she dug her toe into the floor in a curiously shy gesture, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Finally, she took pity on the poor boy. "Oh, go on, ask me, and I might just say that oh-so-special word you've been after all these years."

James stared up at her with an openly hopeful expression. "I'd like to take you on a date, Evans," he blurted, the words spilling out. "Um…Lily. You and me."

"Where to?" Lily asked with a grin, and James straightened up, likely enthused by the lack of an immediate denial.

"Um…Proudly's?" he asked. Harry's heart leapt; had they gone to the same place he and Hermione had spent their first date?

"The new cake shop?" Lily asked, swinging her hips thoughtfully left to right as she made a show of pondering her answer. "Are you planning to spend that trust fund of yours and treat me?"

"Every knut, if I have to," James told her. "I'm a changed man this year. I'm ready to woo you, Lily Evans. I'll sweep you off your feet, just you watch."

Lily giggled at that, hold a hand delicately in front of her mouth. "Is that so?" she asked, her tone amused. "A man on a mission, then?"

"Steadfast and determined," James said, placing his hands on his hips in a heroic pose.

"Well, I look forward to seeing you in action," she said, taking a small step back. "But I've Charms homework."

"What about Saturday?" James asked, an edge of desperation to his voice as he watched her retreat away.

"Hm?" she asked quite casually, though from his angle, Harry could see a little smirk quirking her lips. "Oh, I suppose I could spare a Saturday and have you treat me to tea and cakes, then."

"…You—uh, wait. Really?" James blinked several times, his expression so comically gobsmacked that Harry heard Sirius chuckle to himself. "Y'serious? I—Yes! Yes!" James actually physically jumped for joy, dashing in and smooching a squealing Lily on the cheek before stumbling away. Pointing at her, he declared, "No take-backs!" And with that, he dashed off, shouting jubilantly over and over. "Yes! Yes! She said yes!"

"What an utter idiot," Lily said with a smile on her face, making a show of wiping her cheek while Mary made her way over with a wide smirk stretching her features. Lily spotted this and raised a stern finger at her. "Don't you say a word."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," Mary said. "No, not one. Only… Well, he has grown rather handsome, hasn't he?"

"Mary!"

"Quite a feather in the cap, I'd say," Mary went on with an innocent smile. "Is he a good kisser?"

"It was on the cheek, you nosey thing!" Lily huffed, her face going red.

"I think you've just made his year," Mary said with a shake of her head. "He'll be bragging to anyone who'll listen. And plenty who won't."

"Yeah," Lily sighed, though the smile hadn't left her face. "What an idiot of a man. I suppose I could do quite worse than him."

"You could," Mary agreed, adding matter-of-factly, "and it doesn't hurt that you're absolutely taken with him."

"Well…that does help matters," Lily admitted, shrugging shyly. The memory began to fade, jolting Harry back to awareness as the pair of giggling girls took off down the corridor.

"How'd the date end up going?" Harry asked Sirius, who chuckled.

"Oh, James was the picture of a polite gentleman," Sirius said. "Too much so. It unnerved your mum. She finally kicked him under the table and told him to get out of his own head. She liked him, he didn't need to pretend."

"She really liked him?" Harry asked, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"She married him, didn't she?" he asked her. "There was always something there, I think. Lily knew that there was a good man in James, behind all the bluster and confidence. It took a while for him to get there, but once he did, once they got together, he was at his very best."

"Is there more?" Harry asked, looking around in the darkness.

"Plenty," Sirius said. "Not getting bored, are you?"

"Never," Harry insisted.

They spent about an hour in the pensieve, Harry getting to know his parents through the memories of their friends and loved ones. Remus had apparently spent some time petitioning old schoolmates (the ones left alive), teachers, members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix (which Sirius promised to tell Harry more of sometime), and even Madame Pomfrey (who had treated James's many quidditch injuries in her time) for memories of his parents.

It was like the Mirror of Erised, like listening to their voices through the effects of the dementors – though not nearly as traumatic as either instance. Harry got to see his parents exploring Hogwarts, watched the Marauders conceive of and develop the Map, witnessed their first successful animagus transformations, saw Lily and James's first kiss through the memories of a peeping Sirius, and even watched their small and quiet wedding. Sirius told the occasional anecdote relating to the current memory, laughed along with some antic, and occasionally bit back his rage at the sight of a young Peter Pettigrew whenever he cropped up.

When they emerged from the pensieve (both with a bit of a sore neck), Harry couldn't think of anything to say to his godfather; this was truly the greatest gift he'd ever received.

"You've really set the bar high for next year," he finally told Sirius, who let a quiet laugh and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said. "But you listen, alright? I don't want you coming up here each and every day and dunking your head in that thing, got it? Every once in a while, maybe once a fortnight or something, but you're not to obsess over it. That's the past, and there's no sense getting yourself wrapped up in it."

"Got it," Harry said. "Too much going for me right now, yeah?"

"Exactly," Sirius told him, grinning. "Most especially that charming brunette of yours."

"You know, we had our first date at Proudly's, too," Harry said. Sirius's smile widened.

"It's almost disgusting, how alike you all are," he said. "Like I said, you Potter boys have a type."

"Keeps us out of trouble," Harry nodded sagely, and Sirius barked out a laugh.

"Keeps you in a different sort of trouble, more like."

…

It was to be an eventful New Year's Eve for Harry; following the trip down memory lane, he immediately had to slip into the master bedroom (which Sirius had insisted he take, citing him as the owner of the house) and dress for his first outing since leaving the house to pick up Daphne, Astoria, and Terry. The meeting with Andromeda Tonks had been put off long enough; it was time to meet his new legal guardian. Mafalda was going along as well, for the same purpose, and Remus had offered to escort them, with instructions to apparate the three of them straight back to the house if anything untoward seemed ready to happen.

"Can you handle two passengers?" Harry asked as the trio made their way along the snowy sidewalk. "Hermione told me side-along apparation is complicated stuff."

"I've always had rather a talent for apparation," Remus said with a grin. "Drove your mother mad, in fact. She was the quick study, but there are some magical skills you've simply a knack for, and no amount of training or dedication can match that."

"Did it bother her that much?" Harry asked, and Remus chuckled.

"She would put on a show, but she was never the type to be envious of academic success," Remus said. "Mostly for the reason that she was nearly always top of the class. I suppose she felt someone else deserved a turn."

"Mum seems like she was…" Harry trailed off, unsure how to describe Lily Evans.

"Magnetic," Remus said. "Or…more like a tornado, drawing those around her into her whirlwind."

"Do you think your Mum would have liked me?" Mafalda asked idly, her tiny hand cupped in Harry's as they walked along.

"She would probably have adored you," Harry chuckled. "Would've told me to protect you at all costs."

Mafalda let a pleased sound at that, clutching to Harry's sleeve with her other hand.

"Well, you've done a bang-up job so far, haven't you?" she said with a beatific smile at him, and Harry reached down to yank her knitted cap off and muss her hair. "Ah—no, you'll make my hair all statickyyy!"

They were meeting Andromeda in a small teashop not far from Grimmauld Place, only about a ten-minute walk. Most of the houses they passed by had cars flooding their drives and the few spaces available along the streets; no doubt everyone was gearing up for the evening's festivities. There was going to be quite a blowout at Grimmauld Place, at least, or as much of one as could be had with only eight of them. Sirius had promised to get all the proper muggle amenities working, including a stereo as well as a television so they could take in the New Year's Eve variety shows and whatnot.

Hermione had even considered inviting her parents, though there would simply be too much to explain in addition to the rather mundane concern of introducing them to her boyfriend.

"I will eventually have to tell them of all that's happened, but I'm perfectly happy to procrastinate on that front," she'd told Harry.

They reached the teashop at just one o'clock, not quite lunch anymore but a bit too early for tea. As such, the shop was rather empty save for one or two tables occupied by a lone straggler absorbed in a good book or a pair wrapped in conversation. Near the back of the shop, three visitors sat around two tables that had been pushed together—a couple, Harry believed, and a younger girl that was most likely their daughter. When the tinkling bell above the door announced their entrance, the daughter's head snapped up, and she broke into a grin as she hopped up from her seat.

"Wotcher!" she said cheerily, waving to them. "Over here!"

"Nymphadora, do try not to make a scene," the mother said with a longsuffering smile. She too got to her feet, moving past her daughter and approaching the trio as they neared the table. "Harry, love, so nice to finally meet you."

Andromeda Tonks looked more like someone's cool aunt than a mother. She wore jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt with a flannel over it, giving her the appearance of someone who had stepped right out of a rock concert and into this unassuming teashop. She was, at a glance, quite pretty. Her skin was pale and without blemish, her eyes dark as well as her hair, which spilled over her shoulders in wavy curls.

"And you must be Mafalda!" she cooed, crouching down to peer at Mafalda, who pressed into Harry's side and half hid behind him shyly.

"Hi," she said. "You're very pretty."

"Oh, aren't you sweet?" Andromeda said, gently pinching Mafalda's cheek before fixing her attention on Remus. "And Remus, always lovely to see you."

"You look well, Andromeda," Remus said with a smile. "Why don't we sit?"

"Oh, of course, yes," Andromeda said. "Harry, Mafalda, this is my husband, Ted. And my daughter, Nympha – "

"Just call me Dora, if you'd please?" the daughter interrupted with a roll of her eyes. "Mum, honestly, four syllables."

"It's a pretty name," Andromeda protested as they sat down.

As Harry moved to sit, Andromeda's husband pulled a seat back for Harry to sit in next to him, standing and holding his hand out to shake. He had a firm grip and calloused hands that suggested he put them to use quite a bit.

"Harry Potter," he said. "Good to meet you, lad."

Ted Tonks looked like the sort of man one would see wearing a power suit and commanding a business meeting in a fancy boardroom. His blonde hair was receding ever so slightly, and he bore a bit of a belly, but he carried both with such aplomb and charisma that Harry had no doubt he could effortlessly close any deal. According to Remus, he was the owner of a rather successful chain of electronics stores, rarely interacting with the magic world as of late due to their prejudice against muggle-borns and muggle technology.

"Good to meet you, too, sir," Harry said, and Ted waved an airy hand.

"Please, please, call me Ted," he said. "Sir's what they call me in the meetings, and I'm on vacation, aren't I?"

"That's right, Dad, so no calls on your fancy new cell phone," Dora said. Short and slim, Dora Tonks looked like she might be on break from her seventh year at Hogwarts rather than any sort of job. She was a perfect blend of Ted's friendly features and Andromeda's striking beauty, with a heart-shaped face that dimpled as she fixed Harry with a warm smile. "Hullo. I'm your new honorary big sister, as it were."

"I have a big sister?" Mafalda said in awed tones, and Dora grinned at her.

"That you do, squirt," she said, glancing around the empty shop before shaking her hair out. In fact, it seemed to grow before their very eyes, gaining several centimeters and changing from an almost electric blue color to Mafalda's exact shade of ginger. With a blink, their eyes matched, and a few freckles even sprouted along the older girl's face.

"That's so wicked!" Mafalda squealed quietly. "Harry, she looks just like me!"

"I can see that," Harry said. "How – "

"Metamorphmagus," Dora explained. "Apparently, it runs in the Black family, pops up every few generations. I bet Great Aunt Walburga would have been livid to know the niece she disowned got the daughter with the gene."

"So, you can look like anyone?" Harry asked, and she winked at him.

"Anyone at all," she said. "I'd show off, but we're in public."

"You've kind of shown off anyway," Harry pointed out, and she snickered at him.

"Got me there," she said with a shrug. "Can't resist, I guess."

"So, Harry," Andromeda said once the waitress had come around to take their orders and left them. "You're staying at Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh, um…yeah," Harry said. "Remus is there to supervise, though, and – "

"Save it, Harry," she sighed. "I don't want to hear the cover story. Tell me what's going on."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but even he didn't think he sounded all that convincing, and Andromeda smirked at him.

"Harry James Potter, I've spent the last twenty-one years raising a very troublesome daughter," she said. "I know when a young one is hiding the truth."

"Andromeda – " Remus began, but she held a finger up at him.

"You're not off the hook either, Lupin," she said, and Ted chuckled.

"She got The Point out," he muttered to his daughter.

"Goodness, not The Point," Dora snickered.

Harry dithered for a moment, looking to Remus, who gave a resigned sort of shrug.

"Nothing ventured…"

"Alright," Harry said, taking a breath, "but hear me out until the end, okay?"

"Okay," Andromeda smiled at him.

And for the third time (he needed to draft up pamphlets or something), Harry went through the events of that fateful summer night the previous year, in which he discovered Sirius's innocence, Wormtail's continued survival, and the real events leading up to his parents' untimely demise. Thankfully, they were in a quiet corner of the shop, and he saw Remus covertly whip his wand in some sort of charm to muffle their words. The three Tonkses listened intently, and Harry noticed he especially had an enraptured audience in the form of Dora, who leaned on the table and rested her jaw in her hands attentively.

"And now he's hiding out back home under a Fidelius Charm," Harry concluded.

Andromeda remained silent for a long moment before peering over at Remus.

"You were there for all this?" she asked.

"I saw Pettigrew with my own eyes," Remus said. "He confessed. He escaped due to some…complications owing to my condition."

"Right," Andromeda said with a nod, her voice shockingly calm. "Right. Alright. Well. It's…a lot. It's somewhat difficult to believe, but it also never sat right with me. Sirius just wasn't the type, not at all the type to be harboring that sort of bad side. There was no way my weirdo little cousin could have grown up to be that."

"He didn't," Harry insisted. "He was loyal to them the whole time. He still is. He's…well, he's taking care of me."

"And…would it be possible for me to see him?" Andromeda asked him. "As your guardian, I'd prefer to be involved in your life, after all, and I'd also not mind reuniting with my somewhat estranged cousin."

Harry exchanged a look with Remus, who bore a hesitant expression. Andromeda saw this and reached across the table to take Harry's hand in both of hers. Her grip was warm and gentle, her long fingers ending in perfectly-manicured nails.

"Harry," Andromeda said, "you can trust me. I won't go bursting in spells flying, I promise."

"And what about her?" Harry asked with a nod at Dora. "Aren't you a junior auror or something?"

"Not anymore," Dora grumbled. "I resigned in protest when they sacked Moody. Mad, what they did to him."

"Harry, I promise you, you can trust us," Andromeda insisted. "You've risked a lot coming here and telling me all this. Let me help you."

"I like her," Mafalda said quietly, and Harry glanced down to see her smiling up at Harry. "She's nice. She pinched my cheek and called me sweet."

"You think we can trust her?" he asked, and Mafalda nodded. A glance at Remus saw him nodding as well with a small but hopeful smile. Sighing, Harry nodded and rose from his seat. "Alright. Off we go, then."

…

It seemed the bulk of his ventures from Grimmauld Place (all both of them) involved Harry and a few companions heading off somewhere and returning with company in tow. Just as before, when they reached the path leading up to Number Twelve's door, he withdrew the paper that held Sirius's handwriting revealing the location, and Harry steeled himself before holding it out so all three members of the Tonks family could read it. Then, also just as before, he set it ablaze.

"Oh, that's a bit trippy," Dora muttered, staring wide-eyed at the house. "It was just…not there, and then it was."

"You get used to it when every aunt, uncle, and grandparent sticks his properties behind Fidelius Charms," Andromeda said flatly. "Your grandpa Cygnus had our house and two guest houses under separate ones, and then a fourth one just for the basement."

"That sounds exhausting," Harry said.

"That can be said of most of the Black family and their habits," Andromeda said wryly as they neared the door. Mafalda dashed ahead to let them in, standing back and gesturing grandly.

"Welcome," she in pompous tones, and Harry dove in to tickle her on the tummy which sent her squealing and running away.

"Goodness," Andromeda said with a wondering look around as the door shut behind them. "Really cleaned the place up. It looks better than it ever did before."

"That'll be Dobby's handiwork," Harry said with a grin. "He's the butler."

"He's a house elf!" Mafalda said, skipping back into the room with some fudge and passing a piece to Harry. "He makes excellent fudge!"

"Oi, is that cookie dough fudge?" Dora asked. "Lemme at that, would you?"

"This way!" Mafalda said, leading Tonks down to the kitchen.

"You wait for me," Ted Tonks said. "I love cookie dough."

"I'll be off to the sitting room to fetch Sirius, then," Remus said, moving to the stairs.

"Whatever happened to the other elf?" Andromeda asked once everyone else had departed. "Kreacher, wasn't it?"

"No clue," Sirius's voice said on the stairs, and they looked up to see him already descending toward them. Looking nonplussed, Remus simply smiled and ducked upstairs to give the reunion space to unfold. "I think he crawled into some closet somewhere and died recently, but who really cares, eh?"

Andromeda was quiet for a considerable moment, peering up at her cousin with an unreadable expression. And then she was crossing the room with a happy little sigh, wrapping Sirius in her arms.

"Oof! Careful, now, Arm-dromeda," Sirius chuckled. "I rather forgot about that death grip of yours."

"Well, allow me to remind you, you twig of a boy," Andromeda said, grinning up at him. "Look at you, though. I don't recall giving you permission to get taller than me."

"You say that every time," Sirius all but whined. "I've been taller than you since I was fifteen."

"And it's simply unfair," Andromeda insisted. Pulling away from him, she reached up to wipe at her eyes. "Bugger, I've missed you. I didn't want to believe it, that you were…"

"I wasn't," Sirius insisted. "I would never."

"I know, I… Once he started telling the story, it all felt like it was clicking into place," Andromeda went on. "It only made sense even if it was…rather a wild ride. You're an animagus!"

"Quite a charming dog of one, if I do say so myself," Sirius said airily.

Harry felt a presence at his side, turning to see Hermione slinking up and wrapping her arms around him.

"Can't sneak up on you for a moment, can I?" she asked him softly while the two cousins caught up. "Everything work out?"

"Seems so," Harry said. "All quiet here?"

"As quiet as it's possible to be," Hermione giggled, gently pulling him away. "Astoria wanted to borrow one of Daphne's dresses for tonight's party, but Daphne absolutely refused. I suppose it's a bit too…daring for a twelve-year-old."

"Did we ever hear back from their family?" Harry asked.

"Actually, good news on that front," Hermione said. "Their mum sent a letter to Astoria saying she was free to do whatever she felt it took to convince Daphne to come back, but to do it as quickly as possible."

"That leaves quite a bit open to interpretation," Harry said.

"Exactly," Hermione said, now leading him into the sitting room and onto a comfy sofa. Snuggling up against him, she whipped her wand at the fireplace to set it ablaze. "Like a lengthy study abroad trip to America."

"Is that what we finally decided?" Harry asked.

"Well, it'll be a lot easier than Australia or somewhere else," Hermione said. "The Ministry of Magic and MACUSA work rather closely with each other, so getting a travel permit will be simple. And it'll be fascinating, I think. The United States is so massive, it has to have a variety of different magical cultures."

"Is America so big?" Harry asked.

"Enormous," Hermione said. "The entire United Kingdom could fit into the state of Texas with room to spare."

"Texas is the big one, though, right?" Harry pointed out. "Where it's all cowboys with the hats?"

"What's this about cowboys?" Terry's voice asked as he poked his head into the room. "We rounding up a posse?"

"We're off to wrangle up some Americans, I guess," Harry told him.

"Ah, brill," Terry said with a nod. Making his way to a chair, he flumped in it as Daphne strode in after him. "Always wanted to ride a horse, like."

"It's acutely uncomfortable," Daphne said, settling onto the couch on Hermione's other side and smiling over at Harry. "Welcome back. All well?"

"Sound," Harry said. "Seems to be a happy little family reunion."

"Lovely," Daphne said. "Well, you probably heard Mum's on board with Tori and I joining this little educational institution, long as we make it seem like I just got a case of cold feet and need some time to warm up to having my husband picked out for me with absolutely no input of my own on the matter."

"Well, those kinds of things take time," Hermione said. "And a trip across the pond will help you get your head on right."

"I just need to broaden my outlook, is all," Daphne agreed.

"Did we send in that stack of paperwork?" Harry asked.

"Remus sent it in yesterday," Hermione said. "Thankfully, since we're a private school, we don't answer to any of the Ministry lackeys. We don't have to worry about Umbridge or some other muckraker causing us a ruckus. The only benchmark we have to worry about is passing OWLs and NEWTs."

"If we decide we want to be a part of this society as adults," Harry said. "It might do us some good to look into what it's like over there, what sort of process there is to immigrate, you know?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Hermione told him with a grin. "I've a whole binder I'm putting together."

"A binder?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded. "A fancy one, with dividers and such?"

"And little sticky notes," Hermione added proudly.

"Oh, look out," Harry said with a grin. "This lass is organized."

"You're not even ready for how organized I am, Harry James Potter," Hermione told him, snickering and leaning in to nuzzle her nose against his. "C'mere and kiss me."

"Cover your eyes, Terry," Harry said.

"Ope," Terry obliged with a grin, and Harry pressed his lips to Hermione's.

"Why just Terry?" Daphne asked.

"He's too pure to even watch that sort of stuff," Harry said with a sage nod.

"I do have a famously fragile and impressionable mind," Terry said, peeking through his fingers.

"Well…you're only right," Daphne said with a nod.

…

That night, the big New Year's Eve party went off. The whole house was abuzz with activity, and Harry was loving it. The Tonks family had elected to join them for the festivities, and in the kitchen, an exuberant Sirius was fondly recalling the antics he and his cousin had always gotten up to when they had been younger and causing Remus to double over in laughter at some of the ways they'd harassed Andromeda's sisters. Harry, for his part, was shocked to learn that Draco Malfoy's mother was Andromeda's sister and thus Sirius's cousin. Sirius was in fact Malfoy's second cousin once-removed or something.

Family trees got complicated in the wizarding world.

The sitting room bore a whole entertainment system kept powered by a voltage charm, where a massive rear-projection telly was fighting valiantly against the booming stereo that made Harry supremely thankful for the plethora of secrecy and privacy spells placed on Grimmauld Place. Not only would the neighbors likely be having fits at the noise, but so too would the people several streets down. Currently, the television was hosting Terry Boot's Sega Genesis (he was a half-blood and apparently had a penchant for video-gaming), and he was teaching Mafalda how to play Sonic the Hedgehog 2.

"Which one am I?" she asked.

"You're the wee fox, see? And I'm the blue hedgehog."

"That looks nothing like a hedgehog," Daphne muttered. "Why's it blue?"

"And this is all muggle technology?" Astoria asked, staring transfixed at the brightly-colored scene on the screen. "None of this is magic?"

"Nope, all completely muggle-made," Terry said with a grin. "Pretty wicked, right?"

"You'd think muggles were still living in the Iron Age, to hear Mum and Dad talk about them," Daphne said. "This is actually quite impressive."

"I bet Lucius Malfoy would still find something to say about it," Harry chuckled from the doorway, and they all glanced at him.

"Oi, Potter," Terry said, holding up a black controller. "Wanna go a round?"

"No, I never got into all that video game stuff," he said, waving a hand.

"Won't you at least watch me play?" Mafalda said with a pout. Harry grinned at her, making his way to a couch to sit next to Daphne, and Mafalda let a pleased sound before turning her attention back to her game.

"Seen Hermione?" Harry asked Daphne, who shook her head.

"Last I saw, she got a great big box of books in the post at about three," she told him. "So she could be squirreled away anywhere reading them."

"You know her so well," Harry said. "Wonder what she's digging into now?"

"I saw some titles about magic culture in America," Daphne recalled. "I did hear her complaining about the limited information? She says there's a lot about the Thirteen Colonies but nothing past the Proclamation Line?"

"I've no clue what that means," Harry said with a shrug.

"Are you excited to go abroad?" Daphne asked.

"Very," Harry said. "It'll be nice to maybe even go somewhere where people won't know who I am and gawp at my scar."

"I daresay we can find someone who only stares because they find you handsome or something," Daphne told him with a grin.

"Oh, Terry already does that," Harry said.

"True, mate, you're mint," Terry said without looking up from the screen.

"You two have such an adorable friendship," Daphne sighed. "Oh, and you didn't even compliment my dress? How rude."

Harry noticed what she was actually wearing for the first time, a deep green dress of some sort with spaghetti straps and a bit of ruffling around the legs. It was fetching, and contrasted well with her pale complexion and blonde hair.

"It suits you," he said, remembering that Hermione had once told him girls preferred when compliments were a bit more involved than just saying the clothing in question was nice. "Um…I like the ruffly bits at the bottom."

"Thank you," Daphne said with a giggle. "You really had to think about that one, didn't you?"

"Fashion's never been my strong suit," Harry pointed out. "I only dress nice now because I'm wearing a bunch of Regulus Black's old clothes."

"You do look good in a waistcoat," Daphne admitted.

"Doesn't he?" Hermione's voice said, and Harry felt her arms slide around his neck. "Hey, you."

"Oh, hello there," Harry said as she smooched his cheek. "Where've you been?"

"Reading, of course," she said. "There's not much I can find about anything past the Proclamation Line of 1763. It makes me wonder if the British wizarding settlers actually kept to it."

"Easier to control the magical population when they aren't spreading out over the New World," Daphne said.

"There has to be something out there, though," Harry insisted. "There's no way nothing went over and settled there. And our government's greatly in the habit of pretending things that they don't want to confront aren't happening."

"Oh, a blistering observation from Potter," Daphne said admiringly.

"Regrettably true, though," Hermione said. "Maybe while we're over there, we could see what's going on?"

"I'm down for a bit of adventure," Harry said.

"Only if we make a proper muggle road trip out of it, with a caravan and all that," Daphne said. "It could be exciting, an entirely different continent, so far away from all of this business."

"We tried to change things for the better," Harry said, "and the Ministry went and handed the keys over to Death Eaters and bureaucrats. So, absolutely. Adventure, excitement, and caravans."

"Rather timely, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "This all happening right as the new year is ringing in."

"Cheesy as it sounds, it's a whole new beginning, really," Harry pointed out.

Daphne flicked her wand at the nearby tray of champagne glasses, muttering an "accio" under her breath. Three flutes floated toward them, and they took them up.

"To a whole new beginning, a whole new world," she said. "And cheesy New Year's Eve toasts."

"Cheers," they all said, clinking their glasses together before tipping back the bubbly drink.

It was a night to remember, for Harry. While Christmas had been quiet and cozy and full of lovely moments between him and his new family and friends, New Year's Eve was raucous, noisy, and quite a bit of fun. The energy was palpable, the knowledge that they would be packing up and jetting off to a brand-new adventure in only a few days' time keeping even Mafalda and Astoria up well past responsible hours. Still, the two youngest didn't quite make it to midnight; Mafalda crashed into one last wall and was unable to push through around half-past ten, and Astoria quietly gave up the fight around eleven, curling up with her head pillowed in her sister's lap.

At midnight, Harry and Hermione shared their first of many New Year kisses, and Daphne giggled as she pecked a blushing Terry on the cheek. Andromeda and Ted went for a smooch (both were looking a bit red in the face from champagne and had promised to take the remaining guestroom), while Dora all but bullied a gentlemanly peck from Remus. Sirius, the odd one out, chose to transform into Padfoot and bumble around licking as many faces as he was able.

Just like that, with one last burst of joyous optimism, it was 1995, and Harry was ready for it.

000

Five Days Ago…

The graveyard at Little Hangleton was an oft-forgotten thing; no one had actually been buried in the overgrown memorial in decades, and most of the residents of Little Hangleton knew to avoid the place as well as the infamous Riddle Manor which nearly bordered the garden. Even so, as two figures suddenly appeared amid the snow-covered monuments, their billowing cloaks gleaming in the moonlight, they could see that they weren't the first to visit quite recently.

"Graveyard?" the growling voice of Alastor Moody (the real one) observed questioningly, tossing aside the lion-shaped cufflink he'd been clutching. "Fine place for his designs, I imagine."

"Be alert, Alastor," Albus Dumbledore cautioned his friend, scooping up the discarded accessory and sliding both into his pocket. "This could very easily be a trap."

"Of course it bloody is," Alastor grumbled. "A trap, a setup, or a false lead. Anything but a slip-up."

"I wouldn't overestimate our foe any more than I'd do the opposite," Albus said as they crept slowly forward. "Despite his intentions, Voldemort is still human and liable to make the occasional mistake."

"Albus," Alastor said quietly, gesturing toward the middle of the graveyard. "See that?"

There, in a sizable clearing amid the stones and statues, a massive cauldron sat over a dug-out pit filled with coals. It was obviously intended for some manner of ritual, but it had just as obviously not had a chance to be used as such. As the pair neared the thing, they entered into the shadow of the nearby manor, a gap in the light cast by the moon. Albus held his wand aloft, the tip emitting a white glow that illuminated the bowl in stark light and shadows that seemed blacker than possible.

"Any ideas?" Alastor asked, and Albus shook his head. The grizzled ex-auror waved his wand in slow circles over the cauldron, muttering a few words before letting discontented sound. "No residue. Never been used. Whatever they were planning didn't have time to pop off."

Albus was only half paying attention, however; he'd spotted a familiar name on one of the graves, his eyes widening at the sight:

Here lies

THOMAS PRESCOTT RIDDLE JR.

Gone before his time.

"Riddle…" Albus muttered to himself, glancing up at the house and spotting a flickering light in one of the windows. Alastor followed his gaze, letting a tired sigh.

"Suppose we should spring the trap, then," he said.

They quickly made their way out of the gates of the graveyard, around a stony path through dark trees and chittering animals before a larger trail of packed dirt led up toward the largest building for quite some distance. A dilapidated sign hanging from the postbox proclaimed the family that had resided there as the Riddles.

"You know this fella?" Moody asked with a glance at the sign.

"Unfortunately well," Albus said.

They ascended the front porch, the old and rotted wood creaking underfoot. The house was obviously in a state of horrendous disrepair, and would most likely benefit either from several muggle worker crews renovating the place or simply demolishing it. The front door was easily opened with a wave of Moody's wand, and they quickly took to the stairs inside the door, making their way as quietly as they were able with the house seeming keen to announce their every footfall.

The upstairs hallway was gloomy and smelled of mildewed fabrics and pungent rot. Wands lit, the pair crept forward toward the only door open down the cobwebbed corridor. A flickering orange glow spilled out onto the dusty wooden floor, and Albus could see various trailings left through the thick accumulation. Different sets of footprints, a skittering of small animal feet, and the single trench of what was likely a snake.

"Looks like we found the secret hideout," Alastor said.

"But are they still hiding here?" Albus wondered. "And if so, where have they gone in the meantime?"

"Be ready for it," Alastor said, taking the lead. Albus was right behind him as he nudged the door further inward, raising his wand and then casting a shocked look inside the room. "What the devil…?"

"What have you found?" Albus asked, closing the distance and passing by him into the room. Inside was a fairly standard sitting room furnished with antique chairs and couches that had likely been new when they'd been placed here. One chair had been moved, scooted from a corner and placed near the fireplace.

In that chair was a most gruesome sight.

It was a small figure, no larger than a child, but the body was strangely narrow, the limbs too long. The head was grotesquely bulbous and round, with red eyes and a flat nose. It was also very clearly dead, having presumably been abandoned and unable to fend for itself. The eyes were glassy and empty, its face sunken and shriveled.

"Is that…him?" Alastor asked.

"It appears that it once was," Albus replied. "An attempt to craft a corporeal body for his lingering shade. A homunculus. But he's been abandoned, and he was unable to fend for himself."

"So he must have had a second minion running around," Alastor concluded. "One to take my place and push Potter here, the other to look after him. When our boy Crouch rabbited, the other one must've gotten spooked and ran as well, left him for dead."

"That certainly appears to be what has happened," Albus said slowly.

"But you don't buy it," Alastor guessed, and Albus shook his head.

"It's much too convenient," he said. "This is Voldemort showing us what he knows we want to see. He's trying to throw us off the scent, get us to think that we've bought some time before his next attempt."

"So this isn't over," Alastor said grimly.

"I'm afraid, Alastor, that our conflict with Voldemort has only just begun," Albus sighed. "And now that he knows we've caught on, it's going to get significantly more difficult."

To be continued in The Lily Academy, Part Two: The Clockwork Army

So, I've decided to expand this into a series rather than keep it on extra-long story. This is for a couple of reasons. The title of The Cosigner is rather an artifact now, as this story no longer centers around that particular plot point. Also, the second part will be from multiple POVs, as Harry's is no longer quite enough for the scope I have planned. I've been debating on whether to have one story that bounces between Harry's American adventures and the goings-on in wizarding Britain or to simultaneously publish two stories. Or, I could publish the sequel in America and THEN the stuff in Britain.

I'm still not entirely sure, however.

In any case, wow. Thank you to everyone that's picked up this story and enjoyed it, thank you to everyone who provided feedback, and extra-loud shoutout to the Harmony subreddit for your endless amounts of support. This saga is by no means over, and I hope you guys continue to stick around for the ride.

UPDATE: This story has a sequel! Check out The Clockwork Army if you want more!