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Harry was in the Library, Sirius had said that it was much smaller than the other Black family librarys, but it was more than enough for Harry's needs. He was researching what it meant to be a noble Lord. What he read made his head spin. He would be responsible for every person living on the land he owned. In addition to himself, the residents of the land select representatives to appear in the Wizengamot court. That way there was a purpose for the nobility, and for the common masses.

The etiquette was a large portion of what Harry wanted to study, how was an heir supposed to act? How was an heir supposed to speak?

Harry approached Sirius about it, and the man thought for a moment.

"In Hogwarts, you are surrounded by dozens of heirs. I doubt that any of them put into practice what they're being taught. You don't need to worry about your public face there, it's mainly after Hogwarts that these things come into play. I'll teach you about the most important things this summer, but really this will take a back seat to what you will learn about Runes and Arithmacy."

"My biggest priority is to get you ready to handle the school year. The curse in the scar was damaging your ability to learn, so be prepared for Hogwarts to be easier than last year." Sirius dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you successfully complete the spell that you're covering in class, Professor McGonagall and Flitwick don't assign homework."

Harry smiled at the prospect of no homework for Transfiguration.

"Padfoot, Prongsson, we have a letter from the Headmaster."

"What does it say?" Sirius asked, while snacking on a scone. Dobby had taken to providing food for the three men every day, and there was always some sort of snack on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know, but I checked it for magical traces, there was a tracking charm." Remus shook his head slowly. "Was, being the operative word. Here, Harry you read it. It's the full moon tonight, so we're not going to do anything." The werewolf walked back to his room massaging his temples.

Sirius thought for a moment, his friend seemed to spark a memory. "I had nearly forgotten what he was like after a full moon."

"Read it out loud Harry, let's see what the great white whiskers has to say." Sirius grinned and chuckled at his own joke.

Harry opened the letter, taking it into his hands and unfolding it, taking care to not rip the carefully creased edges. "Harry, it has come to my attention that the wards around your Aunt's house have failed." Harry snorted, "Why did it take him so long?" Sirius shrugged as Harry continued to read. "I have informed the Weasleys to your plight, and Molly has been kind enough to offer you a place to stay until school starts this fall. This is obviously the best option for you, and I expect you will arrive shortly."

Sirius stroked his chin, and the goatee he was growing. "That makes no sense. The wards here direct any mail to Remus, but I don't understand how he can say what is best for you. I am your Godfather, and he is simply the headmaster at your school."

Harry shrugged, he was too excited about what he read next. "Arthur has asked that I pass on the message that he has gotten tickets to the Quiddich World Cup. You are of course invited, but I should not need to remind you to be careful. I hope that you will hasten to the Burrow, and that I will see you soon. With regards, Albus Dumbledore."

"Quidditch World Cup? Pup, that's awesome, does it say when it is?"

"Yes, give me a second… It will be in late August, the Twenty-Second."

"In that case we have until, maybe the twenty first to get you up to snuff with the Arithmacy and Runes coursework. I would also recommend sending Hedwig out to talk to the Slytherins if you're going to."

"Yes, I will. Do you think we can perform the ritual to bring out my animagus before then?"

"Of course pup, we can also work on making a gram for you. If you still want one that is."

"Yeah I do! How hard is it to make?"

"It's NEWT level work at the very least, most likely higher. So yes, it's hard. But if you show it to Professors Babbling and Vector, it could most likely put you in those fourth year classes, maybe higher."

The day after he had gotten the letter from Dumbledore, Harry sat down at his desk to write a couple letters of his own. The first was a simple one, he told Dumbledore that he was safe and happy, and that he would love to go to the Weasleys and the World Cup. He also made sure to inform the headmaster that he would not be leaving his current location. Harry also made sure to write to Hermione and Ron, telling them about his summer.

The next letter that Harry wrote was much more difficult. He was attempting to forge a relationship with a boy he had never spoken to. At Hogwarts, Blaise Zabini was intimidating and rather feared, in no small part thanks to his mother. As a Gryffindor, Harry had no common ground to approach the dark-skinned boy. However, as someone who the hat wanted in Slytherin, Harry started to think with a bit of cunning, and manipulation.

Blaise Zabini

Zabini, I am Harry Potter, we have never spoken but you certainly know who I am, and I know who you are. However I was given information at the end of last year that made me realize I very much need to expand my circle of friends, so that's what this is. I am not trying to force your hand, nor am I going to try to change who you are, I simply need more allies.

I am sure that you heard that Sirius Black had been captured at the end of last year, and that he escaped. I am telling you in confidence that I broke Sirius out of the tower in which he was being held. Sirius is as innocent of the murder of Peter Pettigrew as your mother is of the murder of Anthony Kingsdale. If possible, I would like to open a channel of communication in order to know if we could work together to take down Voldemort. As it stands currently I would be woefully unprepared to fight Voldemort, but with the help of the house of the cunning, I might be able to stand against the madman. I do in fact have reason to believe that Voldemort will rise, possibly even this year.

If you do not wish to send a letter back with Hedwig, any you send would not reach me, you can, however send it to Remus Lupin. He will ensure that I get it.

Sincerely,

Harry.

Harry wrote, and rewrote the letter no less than a dozen times. He brushed off some vocabulary, and made an effort to be what one would expect of Heir Potter.

Blaise Zabini was a tall, good looking Italian boy. Standing at above average height, with dark hazel eyes, and well cut black hair, he looked every part the Slytherin that he was. He sat on the edge of his bed which was unusually ordinary for the amount of money at his disposal. In his room were two owl perches, one for his owl, Gilgamesh, and one for visiting owls. Most days the second perch was empty, but sitting on it was a beautiful snowy owl, Harry Potter's owl. Blaise ran a hand through his hair, a habit that made his mother smile ever so slightly, and reread the letter he had received from Gryffindor's golden boy. Blaise weighed the contents of the letter in his mind, and they came out well, but the Slytherin was hesitant to just strike up a 'channel of communication' as Harry had put it.

Blaise walked out onto the wraparound deck that encircled the Venetian townhouse he and his mother lived in over the summer, the letter held firmly in his hand. Isabella Zabini sat elegantly, very few things she did weren't elegant. Her long, beautiful legs crossed in front of her, and her dark brown hair framed her face perfectly. She was reading the Daily Prophet, and was quite a ways into the newspaper, with a small, private smile on her face. There was a cup of tea sitting to her right, its' steam was still rising, showing she had not forgotten it once again amidst one of her long jaunts down memory lane. Blaise rarely saw his mother smile. Too few things had gone right in her life, so when she did, he was reluctant to say anything to disrupt her peace. Most of the time that she smiled Isabella was remembering her time at Hogwarts, Blaise knew that she was in love when she was there, and that his father ripped her from whoever the man was. Blaise never asked who had stolen his mother's heart, he allowed her to simply think of him, sometimes for hours.

A small breeze blew from behind Isabella, causing her to look up, and see Blaise standing there with his letter. "Blaise, is something wrong?"

"No, mama, I'm simply confused." Blaise handed his mother the letter, and watched as she read the rather short note. The look on her face changed quickly while reading, it started out cautious, quickly became confused, and finally, rapidly, settled into a dazzling smile. Blaise had seen the smile before, but never on his mother. The smile that would light up people's eyes, he saw it in the Hufflepuffs that he had class with, and some of the Ravenclaws. Seeing the smile, Blaise knew he would be spending time with Harry, somehow the Golden Boy had brought pure joy back into his mother's life, if only for an instant. That is all the time that Isabella allowed herself to smile, a single instant.

"Blaise, write him back, tell him that you would love to communicate." Blaise would have thought his eyes deceived him, had he not been so certain. His mother's eyes pleaded with him. "Ask for any information about Sirius, anything at all, I don't care what."

Blaise flicked his eyes over to the Daily Prophet, and it all made sense. This summer his mother had been happier, lighter on her feet, and the only thing on that particular page of the prophet was the news that Sirius Black had not yet been captured. Blaise nodded to his mother, his brain trying to catch up with him, Sirius Black was innocent, and Blaise's mother was in love with the fugitive.

Blaise quickly found a piece of parchment, and a quill. He told Hedwig to stay, and allow him to write to Harry.

Harry Potter

Your letter was certainly a surprise, though not an unwelcome one. While I was surprised by the simple arrival of your letter, I was more surprised about its contents. It was quite cunning of you to relate Sirius to my mother the way you did, but I would like to know why you mention Anthony in particular. Most people agree that of all of my step-fathers, he was the most likely to die anyway.

As a Slytherin, I must commend you on reaching out to me in particular. I believe that if you say You-Know-Who is coming back, he most likely is, and I do not want that. I personally want several members of his group dead and buried. I am more than willing to help you to reach that goal. If I am not very much mistaken, you are most likely living with your godfather this summer, and he gave you the idea to reach out to me. I welcome the idea of opening a 'channel of communication', as you put it. If you would like, I could provide you with a ticket to the World Cup, it would give us a chance to talk, and you would not be required to stay with me at all.

I must ask, seeing as he was in Azkaban for over a decade, and is innocent, how is Lord Black? If it would be required, I could send professional grade healing potions to Professor Lupin for you.

Sincerely,

Blaise Zabini.

Satisfied with his letter, Blaise folded it up and tied it to the beautiful owl's leg, while wondering what this new acquaintanceship would mean in school.

Harry was having a rough day, he and Sirius had been pouring over notes about the animagus ritual Padfoot and Prongs invented. Most days Sirius would teach him Ancient Runes in the morning, giving Harry a detailed account of every magical property of the Nordic rune language, but if they wanted to do the Animagus ritual, and have it take effect by September then they would need to perform it quickly. This meant that Sirius had to deviate from the standard teachings and coach Harry on Egyptian runes.

The two had been studying a textbook on Egyptian runes, the same book that Sirius and James had used twenty years prior, when Hedwig flew in through the open window. Sirius immediately went to check her letter for any charms, a habit he picked up working for the ministry. Satisfied with what he found, Sirius handed the letter to Harry and walked to the kitchen to feed Hedwig.

Harry sat on the couch in the room they used for a school, reading Blaise's letter. The Italian had responded better than Harry expected, then again, Harry hadn't known what to expect. He didn't know how much the tickets to the World Cup would cost, but he knew they had to be expensive. Sirius walked back in and Harry gave him the letter.

Sirius read the letter, adopting what Harry had come to call his 'Lord' expression. Sirius had an intense gaze, and directed all of it at the letter, calculating every aspect of it, and not letting anything escape his notice. "I think he is genuine, and I truly do want to trust Isabella implicitly, but people like Blaise will always go to their parents for guidance. Isa's hand is somewhere in here. I hope it is only the part asking how I am, because that would show that Blaise has a level of critical thinking higher than most his age. The only thing that could be taken as an insult would be that he thought you were not cunning, but honestly you are not known for that particular trait. The offer to buy you a ticket to the World Cup was a bone, most purebloods will show that they intend to take a relationship or alliance farther with an offer to buy something. Sometimes it is simply a meal however, here he is offering a substantial amount of money. I recommend that you decline, obviously cite your intent to go with the Weasleys and see what his reaction is to those society deems lower than him. In a first letter like this one, his offer for the potions is unusual, I think he genuinely wants to help, let him. The potions we are brewing are decent, but not at the level of a professional." Sirius put the letter down, and added almost in an afterthought, "I wonder who he has a vendetta against. Don't respond right away, you do not want to seem like you're at his beck and call. Wait a day, let the letter sink in, and then draft your response."

Quickly getting back to the topic that the two had been discussing before the letter had arrived, Sirius tested Harry on his Egyptian Runes.

Later that day, Sirius had taken Harry deep into the jungle on the island. They came across a clearing, obviously cut recently, and Sirius began to take supplies out of his bag.

"Pup, we're going to perform the ritual out here, seeing as we haven't documented the results. Any magical discharge will, at most, only level some trees." Sirius grinned. "As much fun as it would be to tell your friends you brought down the house, we don't want to bring down the house."

Sirius handed Harry an engraving tool, it looked much like a wand, but had dozens of layers of wood and metal, all with a different language etched into the surface. Sirius had explained to the teen that without such an engraving tool to use on the ground, the runes would not be nearly as powerful, and might fail. If the runes failed in the middle of the ritual, meaning they lost all magical power, any ambient magic in the area might explode. This would most likely kill whoever was in the middle of the ritual.

Sirius oversaw the entire process, making few remarks, and was primarily there to support Harry. The Egyptian runes made a looping type of pattern on the ground, surprising in their simplicity, yet hypnotic in their complexity. As Harry neared completion his hand never wavered, his concentration never swayed. As the final line was drawn, the now complete figure eight pattern glowed a brilliant blue, bathing the jungle clearing in a haunting light. Sirius had to school his features into a mask, in order for his worry to not distract Harry. The young teen sat cross legged in the direct middle of the figure eight, looking out a side, making the pattern look more like the symbol for infinity than an eight. Harry's eyes glowed with his coursing magic, and he became aware of the ocean of power at his fingertips, the roar of the current flowed through his ears. Never had Harry felt so in tune with his magic, never had he felt such power. Sirius had told him of the sensation, but words could not describe the feeling. As quickly as the sensation came however, it vanished. The light of the runes intensified a hundredfold, and both wizards closed their eyes, however the magic remained. Through their eyelids' darkness they could still see the outlines of power, the magic in the trees, and the life of the animals in the forest. Neither wizard had ever seen a sight so beautiful, so commanding.

Slowly, the magic faded, and so did the beauty of the clearing. Without such a power it seemed mundane, ordinary. When the light of the runes was completely extinguished, and the runes themselves deteriorated, Sirius walked over to the unconscious body of his godson. The man, cruelly attacked by the world, lifted the still too skinny boy in his arms and walked back through the jungle.

Remus walked into the sitting room the next morning, Sirius had laid Harry on one of the couches, and was sleeping in a chair himself. Sirius, for all the progress the man had made, was still too skinny. Though no one could see his ribs from through his shirt, no one could call the man healthy. Harry, however was just as bad. The boy was malnourished for his entire life, and the effects of that were readily apparent to any who would actually look. The nourishment potions they had been taking for a couple of weeks had done little to help with the boys frame. His shoulders were bony, and his arms had no meat on them. They were simply bone, muscle; and flesh. If he hadn't known that the boy was healthy enough to participate in all of the pranks the two marauders would play on each other, he would have been very concerned. As it stood, Remus was simply going to have to work with Sirius to get the boy to eat until he was full. Without any encouragement the boy would eat only a small plate and be done. Remus was not a nutritionist, but he knew that the lack of food forced Harry's magic to substitute itself as nourishment. If he hadn't personally taught the boy, Remus would assume that his useable magic would be tiny.

"It was incredible Moony." Remus spun on his heel, he hadn't noticed Sirius awaken. "His magic poured itself into the runes on the ground. Honestly, if I didn't know Lily and James, I wouldn't think he was human. When I did that ritual it poured magic into the runes, sure. Hell, it even made the runes glow brighter. But that's all it was. Light." Sirius took a deep breath. "Harry's magic? It… lingered. I closed my eyes and could see better than with them open. The magic was almost alive, I felt it on my skin, in my lungs. Moony, I've looked Voldemort in the eyes, he tried to intimidate me into joining him. He released his magic into the air, the wards around us vibrated, but that was it. With Harry? I could feel it in the animals around us, I could feel it deep in my soul and core. That boy's power was not greater than mine, I honestly think it was less. Deep down, I know I'm currently stronger than him. His magic was different, fundamentally speaking." Sirius took a calming breath. "I don't think Harry's magic works like ours. That worries me." Sirius straightened in his chair. "Do you remember why my family is so feared?"

Remus's head shot up, and his heart sank at the look on his oldest living friends face. It was the face of a man who had seen too much, but knew he still had more to see.

"Their forays into the black arts, right? It's the origin of your name."

"Yes, in a sense. The common masses fear the name Black, because of the knowledge my family has accumulated over the generations. We know Black magic, we know how to skin a man alive in seconds. We can create an inferno to make Fiendfyre look tame, we can cast spells to cause every splinter of wood in a house to implode. But the reason most people fear us is because of our understanding of unique magic. Just look at Andy's little girl, Metamorphmagi were extinct a generation ago. Now one is training as an Auror. The Blacks know the inner workings of a Vampire's powers, they know the bacterial change that takes place in a werewolf's liver. They know things I can barely dream of." For a few deafening seconds, Sirius was silent.

"Moony, I have never heard of what is going on with Harry's magic. That terrifies me, what if certain spells that I might cast at him would detonate his core? What if what would just tickle you would be like the cruciatus for him?"

Remus was lost. For the first time in over a decade he was truly happy, he had his brother back, and he had his nephew in his life. This new information threatened to derail everything in the werewolf's life. A tear leaked it's way out of his eye, and he couldn't stop it. There was a part of him that said that it was all hopeless, that said he wasn't good enough for Harry.

Remus ruthlessly crushed that part of him. He curled his fingers into a fist, and flexed his arm. His amber eyes turned golden, and his sandy blond hair became several shades darker. The part of him that said he wasn't good enough tried to come back, and was met by the mental snarl of a werewolf scorned.

Remus spoke, and bestial magic poured into his words, propelled by the sheer force of Remus's will. "That doesn't matter. None of this matters, he is my nephew, my cub. If someone wants to kill Harry, I'll hunt them to the farthest corner of the globe. They could run to heaven or hell, neither would be willing to shield the bastard from my wrath." The werewolf's teeth started to lenthen and sharpen. For the first time in his life, Remus was completely in sync with his inner beast. "I will not allow anyone to harm my cub, not in this life, or the next