9

Harry hovered outside the window, waiting for Dumbledore to turn around and see him.

"Just knock already, what're you waiting for?" Sirius asked, flying up behind him.

"I was waiting for you, actually, old man," Harry teased, having arrived at the school ten minutes before his godfather.

"Yeah, well, you have a better broom. If I had a firebolt I'd wipe the floor with your skinny ass," Sirius retorted, stung by the 'old man' comment. He had wasted half his life in Azkaban and wasn't used to thinking of himself as old. In his heart, he was still the young twenty- something he had been before James and Lily had died and he didn't see himself maturing anytime soon.

"Oh, yeah, blame it on the broom, Pads," Harry said, grinning. Neither noticed Dumbledore opening the window to his office, having finally noticed that they were outside it.

"And what's that meant to mean, eh pup?" Sirius asked, annoyed. No way was Harry better than him on a broom, he thought, he was just out of practise, that's all.

"Before you continue this entertaining discussion, would you like to step into my office?" Dumbledore said with a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

"Jesus, Professor!" Harry exclaimed, having almost fallen off his broom, "You do know it's not a good idea to make guys jump when they're really high off the ground?" He finished with a grin and a wink, before skilfully manoeuvring his broom through the small window. He wasn't so skilful at landing in the office, however, and ended up on the floor, having narrowly missed knocking over a small table on his way down. Sirius followed behind him, though he made a far better landing than his godson had and he knew it too, as he smugly offered his hand out to help Harry up.

"I'm still a better flier than you," Harry grumbled, half- joking. Dumbledore chuckled at the continued banter, enjoying seeing his student look so happy. He gestured them into the two comfy chairs in front of his desk, whilst he himself took the high backed one behind it.

"Tea? Lemon drops?" he asked, expecting the standard answer of 'no'. Why nobody would try the candy was a mystery to him; even the muggleborns who knew what it was shunned it as though he had spiked it with some kind of potion.

"Both, thanks, Albus," Sirius answered, Harry nodding his agreement. Dumbledore's face split into an enormous grin and he soon set about providing them with refreshments before taking his seat again and getting down to business.

"Now, boys," he began, looking at the pair over the top of steepled fingers, "I must ask for the story as to how this all came about. I confess that the last I knew of it was that Harry was living with the Dursley's, and you, Sirius were on the run with Buckbeak."

"Well, you see, it happened like this," and so Sirius began to tell the whole story, omitting a few drunken fights (though Dumbledore still eyed Harry's black eye suspiciously), with Harry putting his two cents in occasionally to tell his side of the story.

"I see," Dumbledore said when they were finished, fixing them both with a piercing stare. Sirius had forgotten what it felt like to be under that stare, and couldn't help but be transported back to his school days. Harry shifted uncomfortably, knowing that whilst Dumbledore didn't always tell him everything he wanted to know, he was still looking out for Harry's best interests, and Harry didn't want to disappoint him. Too much, anyway. A little might keep him on his toes, he thought idly.

"Well, Hagrid at least will be pleased to know that Buckbeak is free and happy," the old man said finally, smiling at them both. He did not much approve of the way that Sirius was teaching Harry to live his life but... they both seemed so happy. Dumbledore couldn't remember the last time he saw either of them with a genuine smile on their face, and yet neither had stopped since they entered the room. How could he deny them that? And so he swallowed his doubts and let it go.

"So... can we stay for dinner?" Sirius asked, an enormous smile forming on his face as Harry burst out laughing.

"C'mon, pup, you must want something!" Sirius wheedled, looking up at his godson with his best puppy dog eyes.

"Really, Pads, there's nothing you can buy me that I want! Besides you already got me the firebolt last year, I think that counts for the next ten years worth of presents," Harry replied, idly twirling his wand between his fingers and ignoring the looks his godfather was sending his way. They were in the living room again, though it was a lot cleaner than the last time they had been in it. The windows were sparkling, allowing actual sunlight through them, and the couches which were previously dust-infested were now immaculate. Anything dark or dangerous, be it creature or trinket, had been removed, all with the help of-

"Dobby!" Sirius called, carrying on speaking as soon as the elf had cracked into the room, "what can I get Harry for his birthday?" To his surprise, Dobby's enormous eyes lit up in excitement, and he bounced up and down on his toes.

"Dobby knows just the thing, sir! Come with Dobby and we will get it at once!" he squeaked out, pulling on Sirius's hand.

"Okay, Dobby. Harry, I'm going out," he said, a bemused expression on his face. Harry grinned back, shaking his head at the antics of his new house elf. They hadn't been able to coerce Kreacher into actually cleaning, so they had been forced to think of other options. Luckily, after only about 6 hours of thought, Harry had the perfect idea and hired Dobby. The elf got 10 galleons a month, a clothes allowance for his uniform and paid sick leave. And that was after the elf had brought it down.

"Goodbye Mr Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked before disappearing with a crack, taking Harry's godfather with him. Harry grinned, leaning back in his chair and lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag and chuckled to himself as he wondered what his birthday present would be. He wandered over to the window, thinking that he would see if they brought anything big into the house. But instead, he was faced with a very strange sight.

Down in the street, a tall, lanky blonde boy was yelling and gesturing wildly towards the house whilst a shorter, stockier boy with dark skin and dark hair listened patiently. Both were dressed in muggle clothing, though any chance of them blending in was ruined by the cloaks draped around their shoulders.

Harry ran down to the front door, taking the stairs three at a time in his rush. He stood for a second to collect himself, before wrenching open the door and walking down the garden, stopping when he was just out of range of the fidelius.

"Houses don't just up and disappear, you know!" the blonde was yelling, completely oblivious of Harry's presence. The other boy, however, had his gaze fixed on Harry the moment he appeared, though he was silent, waiting for the Gryffindor to make the first move.

"And what, precisely, has brought you two here?" Harry drawled, leaning casually back on the garden fence. Draco paused mid-word, turning silently and staring in shock at Harry for a second before recovering himself.

"We have more reason to be here than you, Potter," he sneered, curling his lip as he took in Harry's appearance. The baggy, worn out white vest and ripped jeans were ridiculous in his opinion, and he wasn't even wearing shoes! He looked as though he had just rolled out of the gutter, and this was the most famous boy in the wizarding world?

"Actually, you really don't. See, I live here, you don't," Harry replied, smiling slightly at the ferret's obvious reaction to his clothes, "So if you could be so kind as to fuck off, it would be greatly appreciated." Blaise raised an eyebrow at the language, but otherwise hadn't moved since Harry had arrived, simply standing and listening, taking note of things the two arguing boys were oblivious to.

"Fuck you, Potter! You and your mangy, flea bitten godfather!" Malfoy bit back.

"Well," Harry began, looking thoughtful, "I can't really speak for Siri, but I have to say that I really have no intention to fuck you any time soon, so I'm going to have to decline your offer, I'm afraid." Malfoy's eyes near on bugged out of his head and his jaw visibly dropped at Harry's words. No-one had ever spoken to him so... crudely. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but Blaise nudged him slightly and he closed it again. Potter wasn't worth it. He turned around with a swirl of his cloak that even Snape would be proud of and stormed off down the road. Blaise paused for a second, looking thoughtfully at Harry.

"In the attic, there's some stuff of ours. I'd appreciate it if you could send it to us," he said neutrally. Then, without waiting for an answer, he too turned and strode off down the road, leaving Harry standing by the fence.