Merry Christmas dentedsky!

Title: Thank Merlin for Neville Longbottom
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Harry/Sirius
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, they're not mine. They're JKR's.
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: Okay, well, it's slightly non-canon compliant for the following reason. Harry travels back to Marauder time because of an accident in Charms, but he is seventeen here because dentedsky specifically asked for young!Sirius, but for them to be over sixteen, so I couldn't make it in his sixth year, and we all know he won't be at Hogwarts his seventh. I hope that doesn't make all of you have nervous tics or something. I hope even more, though, that you enjoy it, dentedsky!


To: dentedsky
from wanderingbusker




Harry felt his feet land in a surprisingly non-dramatic fashion, and as his bum followed suit and he sprawled out on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room, he managed to quell his urges to swear into a small "oomph" as he looked around blearily.

As his eyes wandered over the empty room he was quite certain that something had gone wrong. They'd been learning about the spells behind Portkeys in Charms class, and though they weren't supposed to activate any of them, they were supposed to begin enchanting them, and Harry was quite certain that he was going to kill Neville Longbottom.

Neville had put some enchantments on his, and Harry had dimly heard Hermione lecturing Neville that he pronounced the spells wrong when the portkey had slipped, and Harry, Seeker reflexes immediately kicking in, reached out to catch it in what turned out to be a terribly bad move.

Now he was sprawled out on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room with a badly enchanted whistle in his hands, and something definitely went wrong.

Instead of the Witch Weekly that had come out that week with his face plastered all over the cover which he had tried to hide but had continually re-surfaced throughout the common room anyway, there was an issue lying on one of the side-tables, which looked a lot less scratched and bumped than usual, with a tall and thin blonde witch on the cover, her hair long and straight and her robes flowing and colourful. Beside that was an issue of Quidditch Weekly, open to an advertisement for the brand new Cleansweep.

Harry stood up, tucking the whistle into his pocket, and gingerly rubbed his backside; landing on the castle floor wasn't exactly soft. He picked up Quidditch Weekly with a puzzled look on his face. The brand new Cleansweep? Which model? He hadn't heard about that. He looked closer and realized that it was just that-the brand new Cleansweep. There was no model number because it was the first Cleansweep to hit the market.

His brow furrowed momentarily in thought, and then his eyes widened. First Cleansweep to hit the market? But Cleansweeps had been around for ages! That meant-

Suddenly, with one last thought of death to Neville Longbottom, Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and he did the very manly thing to do in times of crisis-he fainted.

--

When Harry began to wake up, he could hear muffled voices around him.

"No, Madame Pomfrey, I swear we haven't been doing anything strange. I'm standing right here, so I can't be there, too!"

"Not, perhaps, an illegal procurement of a Time Turner, Mr. Potter? Or perhaps a badly done projection spell?"

Potter? Harry thought. That's me!

He opened his eyes and then squinted against the bright light, and when a face eerily similar to his own swum into his vision he squeezed them shut again.

Madame Pomfrey was talking to him, but he tuned her out with an inner chant about the evils of Neville Longbottom. When he felt that he had cursed Neville enough, he opened his eyes cautiously. The first face his eyes took purchase on was Madame Pomfrey-but she was different.

Her face looked smoother, and there were no wisps of gray sticking out from beneath her hat, just honey colored curls. Harry stared for a moment, but then his attention was caught by the kid standing next to her.

For a moment, Harry was heartily confused-there were two of him wherever he ended up?

His mouth fell open, though, when he realized just who was standing next to Madame Pomfrey.

"Alright, then, who are you?" Madame Pomfrey asked him with a large amount of irritation in her voice.

Harry looked at her in confusion. "Hmm?"

"Did you lot try Polyjuice and not do it quite right?" Madame Pomfrey said to the kid standing next to her.

"Wait!" Harry said. "I'm Harry."

Madame Pomfrey looked at him for a moment, and then looked beside her with a frown. "You're telling the truth, Potter?"

The kid and Harry both said yes at the same time, and then looked at each other in confusion, and Harry could feel his pulse begin to speed up. His father-

"Then I'll go and get Professor Dumbledore."

When she left, Harry was left alone with his dead but very much alive father.

"So who are you, then?" James asked. "You're not a Slytherin, are you? Bad Polyjuice job? I always knew Snape was secretly arse at Potions."

"Er, no, I'm not a Slytherin," he said cautiously. He wasn't quite sure how much he could reveal without ruining the future, after all, and he was also quite shocked to be speaking to his father.

"Are you really a Gryffindor, then? Not a Ravenclaw-you wouldn't have messed up the potion. And let's be honest, Hufflepuffs just wouldn't stand a chance. So you're a Gryffindor?" He paused for a moment, and then his brows shot up in alarm. "Sirius, you prat! This isn't funny! You're going to get us into trouble! I thought we weren't doing this until-"

"I'm not Sirius," Harry said quietly. James stopped talking immediately, maybe because of Harry's tone of voice, and looked at him sceptically.

"Then who are you?"

"Ah, just what I was wondering myself," a voice interrupted, and Harry couldn't help but smile despite the circumstances; Dumbledore was just as mystical, omnipotent, and chock full of perfect timing in the past as the future.

Dumbledore gave James a kind smile, then turned to Harry, then back to James again.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "I'd say the resemblance is quite strong."

"Where do you come from, my boy?" he continued, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Er, Surrey?" Harry said, and ignored the snicker from James.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, a nice place, Surrey. More specifically, though, where were you before you were here?"

"Charms," Harry said. "Er, we were learning about portkeys, see, and-"

"Charms class here at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore interrupted.

"Er, yes, but not here exactly. I mean, it was Hogwarts, but not like this." Harry glanced at Madame Pomfrey, who was regarding him strangely, and then at Dumbledore, who looked exactly the same as he remembered, and then sighed. "I think I accidentally time travelled from the future."

"Brilliant!" James said, staring at Harry in awe. Harry couldn't help but smile and his heart skipped a beat. He looked at James admiringly, but didn't want to stare, so looked down at his lap instead.

"That's quite an accident to have," Dumbledore said, his sparkling eyes betraying his serious tone of voice. He looked back and forth between James and Harry for a moment, and then smiled at Harry. "What did you say your name was, my boy?"

Harry knew where this was headed, so he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Harry, sir."

"And your last name, Harry?"

Harry snuck a glance at James, then looked back at Dumbledore. "Er, Potter."

James' jaw dropped and he stared at Harry. "I have a cousin?" he asked.

Dumbledore chuckled and Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"I do believe, Mr. Potter, that you have a son."

Harry thought for a moment that his father was about to faint, too, but a stern grip on James' elbow from Madame Pomfrey prevented that.

"You're my son?" James asked. "Bloody hell!"

"Mr. Potter!" Madame Pomfrey admonished, though Dumbledore just rubbed thoughtfully at his ear as if his hearing were incorrect.

"Mr. Potter-Harry that is," Dumbledore began, "I'd like to ask you not to reveal anything to any of us about your time."

Harry nodded, accepting this, but James looked angry. "Why not? Can't I find out if I'm a good father? What's the point?"

"I could mess up the future!" Harry blurted. "If I say one thing wrong then everything will change!" He felt that he should frantically defend not talking about the future, as he didn't fancy a conversation with his dead father explaining that he was dead.

"Exactly," Dumbledore said approvingly.

"So what do we do with him?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a moment, and he seemed to sense something within his mind. "Let him spend some time with his father and his friends, perhaps?"

Harry's hands twisted the blankets of the bed he was lying on in anticipation. Please, please, please-

"But first," Dumbledore said, "Harry, what was the object you used as a portkey? Do you still have it?"

"Yes, it's in my pocket," Harry said. "A whistle."

"May I see it?"

Harry nodded and plucked the red whistle from his pocket and handed it to Dumbledore, who looked it over curiously before nodding. "I'll have to take a look at this. In the mean time, perhaps James would like you to go meet his friends?" It was more of a statement than a suggestion, and Harry hoped he didn't look too eager.

James nodded without taking his eyes from Harry's face, and Harry tried not to fidget under his father's gaze.

"Well, go on, then, unless Madame Pomfrey has any objections?"

"No," Madame Pomfrey said, looking a bit shell-shocked.

"Well, then, have a nice afternoon, and I shall find you, Harry, when I've figured out how to reverse this Portkey. Please don't inform anyone other than James and his closest friends of where you're from, please. And should the need arise, you can stay overnight in Gryffindor Tower, if that is all right with you?"

Harry nodded and Dumbledore took his leave.

"Well, come on, then," James said, looking like he was quite unsure of how to act.

Harry nodded and stood up, and James grinned.

"Accidentally time travelling?" he asked sceptically.

"Well, yeah," Harry said, wishing for a moment he had a more exciting story to brag about.

James held the door open for him, and as Harry went through, he continued to speak. "It really was an accident. My friend Neville is rubbish at getting things right, and he didn't pronounce the enchantments right. I caught the whistle when it fell and now I'm here."

"You do get into loads of trouble, though, right?" James asked seriously.

Harry thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Well, yeah."

"Like what?" James asked eagerly.

"Well, in second year my best friend Ron and I drove a flying car to school instead of taking the train," he said.

James' eyes lit up. "Brilliant! Did you get a lot of detentions?"

Harry smiled. "Not at all. Ron got a nasty Howler, but that's it."

"You didn't get one, of course!"

Again, Harry smiled, but this time, it was a bit sad, though he tried to cover that up. "No, I didn't."

James didn't seem to notice, for he carried on his questioning. "Hey! Who's your mum?" he asked with excitement in his voice.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I can't say."

"Come on!" James said. "You have to!"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry."

James was silent for a moment, defeated, but then he spoke again. "So what year are you in?" he asked.

"Seventh," Harry said.

"So you're seventeen, then?"

"Seventeen," Harry confirmed. "What about you?"

"The same," James said. "That's a bit weird."

"Yeah, a bit," Harry said with a lopsided grin.

"Were you the one who found me in the Common Room?" Harry asked.

"No," James said with a snicker. "A second year found you and thought you were me. Levitated you to the hospital wing and all, then Pomfrey thought you weren't me because of that weird scar on your forehead-er, no offence, mate-so she got me out of class."

"Which class?" Harry asked.

"Potions," James said, wrinkling his nose. "It's a good thing, too, because I think Snivellus was about to ruin our potion."

Harry didn't say anything because he didn't want to ruin his time with his father thinking of the memories from Snape's pensieve. Instead, he just shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart, so loud he was sure James could hear it.

"Hey, do you know what the time is?" Harry asked. "Is it lunch time?"

James shook his head. "No, lunch was hours ago. Potions is our last class of the day, and I think we've missed dinner. Fancy a trip to the kitchens?"

Harry nodded, trying to wrap his head around the fact that only a few minutes ago it was almost lunch time many years in the future.

"Hey!" Harry said without thinking when James began to turn left. "The kitchens aren't to the left!"

James grinned and slapped Harry on the back. "Excellent! You know where the kitchens are!"

Harry grinned brightly and nodded. "Of course I know where the kitchens are."

James slung an arm around Harry's shoulders and they walked towards the kitchens. Harry couldn't bring himself to feel uncomfortable with the contact, and neither could he bring himself to wipe the smile off of his face.

"Play Quidditch?" James asked.

Harry smiled and nodded. "Seeker."

"Yeah? What year'd you make the team?"

"First!" Harry said, more than excited to boast to his father.

James stopped dead in the hallway and removed his arm from Harry's shoulders, instead bracing his hand there and facing Harry.

"You're not serious."

Harry laughed. "I am!"

"That must've been a first in nearly a century!"

Harry nodded and when James was suddenly hugging him eagerly and congratulating him he only just managed not to cry. If James noticed, he acted otherwise.

"I always knew the Potter genes were incredible!" James said. "Imagine my son being Seeker his first bloody year!"

Again, James' arm was around Harry's shoulders, and they trekked to the kitchens, James expounding upon the wonderful nature of the Potter genes the entire time. When they arrived at the pear, James bowed to Harry and told him to do the honors, which Harry did happily.

The door to the kitchens opened and Harry climbed through, finding it a bit odd when there wasn't a sudden rush of house elves to accommodate him. Instead, they were gathered around someone else, a dark haired figure with arms full of packages.

"Sirius!"

Harry realized that James had entered and spoken to the dark haired figure, and when the boy looked up, Harry bit back a gasp.

"What is this, Prongs? Somebody botch a Polyjuice? Is that Peter in there?" he asked, gesturing towards Harry.

Harry stared openly at Sirius; this was not the Sirius he knew. This was so much better.

This Sirius was young and carefree with wrinkle-less skin and sleek, dark hair. His eyes were bright and youthful and his build was strong. He looked happy and carefree, with mischief lurking about his presence.

"All right there, Peter?" Sirius asked, stepping towards Harry and looking at him quizzically.

When faced with Sirius so close, Harry blinked rapidly and tried to speak, but only managed a few inarticulate syllables.

"Er, Harry?" James asked. "All right?"

"Who's Harry?" Sirius asked, looking at James quizzically.

James grinned. "Harry, my friend, is none other than my very own son."

Sirius laughed loudly and almost dropped the basket of sweets in his hands.

"I really am," Harry said, suddenly finding his voice again. Sirius looked at him with a raised eyebrow, then back at James, still chuckling.

"It's true," Harry said. "You can ask Dumbledore. I accidentally time travelled."

At this, Sirius looked intrigued. "Accidentally time travelled? How'd you manage that? Prongs, that would really help that project we're working on. You know which one I mean…?"

"Sirius, who cares!" James said. "This is my son! And you know what? I told you the Potters are inherently better than the Blacks, and I was bloody right. My son was seeker for Gryffindor his first year!"

Harry grinned and Sirius looked at him incredulously. "Seeker first year?" Upon Harry's nod, Sirius grinned. "Good going, Prongs! Hey, you must know my kid then, right? Mine's on the team, right?"

"Your kid probably didn't even make Hogwarts," James said smugly. "Probably a squib."

"Oi, shut it, Potter," Sirius said. "How's my kid, Harry?"

"I can't give any information about the future," Harry said quietly. He was suddenly very saddened by the fact that Sirius had expected to have children.

"Well come on," James said. "Let's go show Harry off to Moony."

"Sounds good," Sirius said. "But I think Moony has a prefect meeting now."

"Bugger. What about Wormtail?"

Harry tried not to show any sort of visible reaction to the name Wormtail, and must have succeeded because James and Sirius continued to chat.

"Wormtail has detention with McGonnagall for cheating on the last test as soon as dinner is over."

"Oh, right," James said with a snicker.

They made their way up to Gryffindor Tower, the halls mostly empty since most people were still finishing up with dinner.

"Hey Harry, what's old Prongs like for a dad? Probably pretty bad, huh?" Sirius asked.

Harry tried to keep all emotion off of his face. "I can't tell you that."

"Not even a good or bad?" Sirius prodded. "Come on. That won't affect anything."

Harry swallowed thickly. "Well, I can't say. I think it's safe to say he's the best I could've dreamed of, though," he said quietly, hoping his voice didn't sound choked.

"Do you know me, too?" Sirius asked. "Am I your nice rich uncle who gives you whatever you want and spoils you rotten?"

"I'm not supposed to say," Harry reminded him. "You did get me an incredible broom for Christmas once, though."

"What kind?"

"It doesn't exist here," Harry said. "But it's faster than anything available now, I can tell you that."

"Brilliant," Sirius said. When they got to the Fat Lady, she looked between James and Harry in confusion, but James just said, "Nimbus," and the portrait swung open. There were only a few people scattered about inside, and Harry was both disappointed and relieved that none of them were pretty red-haired girls named Lily.

James ignored the questioning glances toward him and his look-alike, and the three went up to the dormitory eagerly.

"So," James said, once they were inside and settled on Sirius' bed. "How many detentions have you had, Harry?"

Harry laughed at the line of questioning and looked around the dorm room as he spoke, trying to memorize everything he saw. "Well, quite a lot," he said honestly. "Remus and…and Peter aren't here?" he said, trying not to spit out Peter's name like venom.

"No, remember? They-"

"James!" Sirius suddenly said in horror, dropping the biscuit he had in his hand.

"What?" James said irritably.

"James, you have to go!" he said.

"Why?"

"Your date!"

James suddenly stood up and stared at Sirius in horror. "She's going to kill me! I finally get her to agree and I don't even show-do I look okay?"

"You look fine, Potter, now go or you'll ruin your chances with her!"

James nodded frantically, checking his hair in the mirror. "Harry, brilliant to meet you, mate, I'll see you later, but I have this date I've been trying to get for about three years-"

"It's fine," Harry said with a smile, feeling his heart clench in his chest. "I was glad to meet you."

He hoped his eyes weren't misty as James left, tugging on his collar and messing with his hair as he pushed his way out of the dorm.

"So," Sirius said, "you're really James' kid?"

Harry nodded, ignoring Sirius' stating the obvious. "Who does he have a date with?" he asked.

"Evans," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose. "He's been obsessed with her since second bloody year and she won't even give him the time of day. She finally agreed to go on a date with him because he helped her with our Defence homework."

Harry smiled. "I hope he's not too late."

"Shouldn't be," Sirius said.

"Does he go on a lot of dates?" Harry asked.

Sirius grinned. "He tries to go on a lot of dates but they usually fail."

Harry laughed. "Sounds like me."

"Yeah? No luck with girls?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really. I'm rubbish at talking to them."

"Not me," Sirius boasted. "I can get any bird in this place."

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded. "Not that I'd want to, though," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Not really my thing," Sirius said with a shrug.

"They're not?" Harry asked.

Sirius looked at him oddly. "No. Don't you know that in the future?"

"Er, well, I guess it never really came up," Harry said.

Sirius snickered, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Maybe you're not into birds, either," Sirius suggested. "Maybe that's why you have trouble with them."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he said.

"Want to see if you're into boys?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up and he stared at Sirius incredulously. "Er-how?"

"We could fool around a bit," Sirius said simply. "Wouldn't be a big deal. It's not weird, really, because I'm not really your dad's friend yet so it wouldn't be creepy. We're the same age and all-it's fine."

"You-but-are you serious?"

Sirius nodded and put the basket of biscuits on the floor. "Come on, no big deal. James is gone, Remus is prefecting, and Peter is in detention. It's fine."

And then, before Harry could even acknowledge Sirius' idea, Sirius was straddling him, his hands cupping his face, and his mouth right there on top of his own.

Harry didn't bother trying to protest, and thought it was quite peculiar that his dead godfather was snogging him, but then it was quite peculiar that he was even in his dead godfather's youthful presence at all, so he let his hands sit awkwardly on Sirius' waist and responded to the kiss.

"You know," Sirius said, panting slightly when he pulled away. "You're a much better kisser than James. A bit better looking, too, if you want to know the truth."

"Really?" Harry asked, unable to really process what Sirius was saying since he could feel Sirius' firm chest against his.

Sirius nodded and then leaned in to kiss Harry again, pushing him against the headboard. His legs were on either side of Harry's hips, and Harry's hands clutched the back of Sirius' shirt when an erection ground into him.

Sirius' lips left his and then they were trailing over his jawbone and down to his neck, where they stayed and sucked greedily, hips still grinding downwards. Harry's breath felt shaky and he shifted his legs so Sirius' cock could get closer. When Sirius' hands were loosening his tie he didn't protest, only brought his own hands up to frantically loosen Sirius' as well.

Sirius unbuttoned Harry's shirt and his lips were now tugging at Harry's earlobe. Harry quite liked it, and his hands worked towards Sirius' waist, where they eagerly pulled at the buttons on his trousers. Sirius helped him unbutton them, and then unbuttoned Harry's.

Harry wound his hands in Sirius' hair and pulled him closer when Sirius suddenly kissed him, hard and bruising, and pulled him as close as possible, savouring every touch and every feel of Sirius against him. He didn't care that he was snogging his godfather. He didn't care that his father could come in and catch them at any time. He didn't care that Peter was somewhere in the castle and he could easily find him and torture him.

This was Sirius on top of him, surrounding him in every way possible, and this was perfect. Sirius' hair was tickling his forehead and Sirius' lips were a little bit rough, but Harry thought it was wonderful, and he especially liked the way Sirius' tongue felt, squashed roughly against his own, and he really liked the way their chests felt against each other, and the way their cocks felt, hard and full of friction. He let one hand drift down Sirius' back to tug at the waist of his trousers, and then Sirius was pulling himself away from Harry, kicking off his trousers and throwing them, with his pants, at the foot of the bed.

He tugged at Harry's and Harry lifted his bum to make it easier, and didn't protest when they, too, were at the foot of the bed. Instead, he pulled Sirius close, so their flesh was against each other achingly hard, and Sirius brought one hand down to wrap around both of their cocks. Harry groaned and his hands found purchase in Sirius' hair, and he shifted as close to him as possible. He could feel Sirius' legs tightening around his waist, and his own were moving restlessly beneath Sirius, trying to find a way to ease the tension building in them.

Sirius's hand began to move, tugging at their cocks in unison, and Harry felt a helpless whimper escape him. He pulled Sirius closer and buried his face in his neck, his breath coming in shaky gasps as the heat swirled in the pit of his stomach, tightening around him, his legs trembling.

Sirius was panting above him, and Harry groaned when Sirius' lips found the top of his ear and kissed and licked and he found his fingers digging into Sirius' neck when he felt it nearing, approaching fast and almost knocking the wind out of him, spiraling deep and so hot in the pit of his stomach and suddenly he was coming, groaning loudly, Sirius collapsing on top of him.

Afterwards, his legs finally stopped twitching and his hands stopped shaking and he realized he was breathing heavily, still clutching Sirius like his life depended on it, and Sirius was panting, resting his head against Harry's.

Sirius shifted above him and made to get up, so Harry leaned back and scrubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to pretend that the collar of Sirius' shirt wasn't wet with tears.

"Merlin," Sirius said, muttering a cleaning spell over them. He grinned widely. "That was bloody intense."

Harry could only nod; he didn't think he could really move any other part of his body.

"Still think you fancy girls?"

All Harry could do was laugh, and as Sirius passed him his clothes, he pulled them on weakly.

He watched as Sirius pulled on his own clothes and re-buttoned his shirt, straightening his tie and fixing his hair in the mirror. Harry thought he should do the same, but he felt quite numb and unable to move.

"Oi, come on, Harry, fix yourself up. Remus might be back soon," Sirius said. He held out a hand and Harry gripped it with sweaty hands, allowing himself to be pulled off the bed. He did up his trousers and smiled when Sirius rolled his eyes and motioned him closer. He stood obediently in front of Sirius, and Sirius carefully buttoned his shirt and straightened his tie, then ran his hands through Harry's hair a couple of times to fix it. Harry stared at him the whole while, imagining what it could have been like if only Sirius hadn't died, and when Sirus leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, he really almost lost it and would have if there wasn't a measured knock on the door.

They pulled apart quickly and Sirius opened the door to find a younger student standing there, a slip of parchment in hand.

"It's for you, Black," the boy said.

Sirius nodded and took the paper. He shoved the door closed in the kid's face and ignored the kid's "Hey!" from the other side of the door. "Mr. Black and Mr. Potter, Please come to my office upon receiving this note. I have figured out how to send Harry home. Professor Dumbledore," he read.

"Time to go?" Harry asked, feeling a sudden panic-like feeling overtake him. He was supposed to go home when he could stay here, with his dad and his mum and Sirius?

"Yeah, too bad, eh?" Sirius said with a lascivious grin.

Harry nodded and swallowed thickly.

"Hey, is it so bad where you're from?" Sirius asked with a sudden show of insight.

Harry just laughed even though it sounded a bit soggy and shook his head. "No, Sirius, it's fine. It's just…nice here."

Sirius seemed to know that he shouldn't ask anymore, so he held the door open for Harry and the two left the common room. Most people didn't look twice at Harry, assuming he was James, and Harry was glad.

They walked in silence, though it was comfortable. Harry didn't think there was anything he could say at that point without suddenly letting loose a stream of things he shouldn't talk about and bawling all over Sirius, but he was glad to be near him.

When Sirius reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing slightly, he didn't protest. In fact, he clutched it eagerly.

They got to the gargoyle all too soon, and Sirius let go of Harry's hand as the gargoyle moved to the side for them without the use of a password.

"Must know we're coming," Sirius commented.

Harry nodded and when they stepped into the spiral staircase, Sirius gave him a brief hug which he returned eagerly.

Dumbledore called them into his office as soon as the stairs stopped, and he was smiling brightly at them.

"I have it all figured out, my boys," he said. "And as such, it is time for Harry to go home. Sirius, if you'll have a seat," Dumbledore said, gesturing to an empty chair next to James, who was watching Harry with a pensive look in his eyes.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "I will give you this whistle back, and you will say the word 'home' and then you will find yourself just there. When you leave, I will obliviate both James and Sirius, so you do not have to worry about an altered future."

Harry nodded, and Dumbledore reached out a wrinkly hand with the whistle sitting in the palm. Harry was about to reach for it, but James stopped him.

"Wait!"

Harry looked at him expectantly, wishing that he could leave even though he wanted to stay because he didn't think his emotions could handle any more time here.

James stood up and crossed the distance between them in two strides. Suddenly, Harry was wrapped in an engulfing hug. He hugged back eagerly and this time he knew he couldn't hide the tears on his face. When James pulled away from him he quickly grabbed the whistle with a sob and said "Home" just as Dumbledore began to obliviate his father.

When he landed on his bum in the Gryffindor Common Room, it was empty except for Neville, who was sitting by the fire wringing his hands.

"Harry! You're back! Everyone's at lunch but I couldn't eat, I was so-wait! Harry! Are you crying? Did I send you somewhere terrible? Merlin, I'm so sorr-"

Harry stood and stumbled over to him before he could finish to grab him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you so much, Neville."

"Are you serious?" Neville asked, stiff beneath Harry's hug and unsure of what was going on.

Harry nodded, wiping at his face and still unable to control himself as he pulled away from him. "You're the best, Neville. Really. The absolute best."

Harry went upstairs to his dormitory with a smile on his wet face, ignoring the confused Neville he left behind him.

As he opened the door to his dormitory, he grinned as he heard Neville's confused voice from the common room.

"You're welcome?"