A/N: Sorry for the wait! I actually just got off a two week vacation, and probably should of waited to post this story until after I got back, but couldn't help myself. Hopefully from now on, I can update weekly, but we will see how work and school goes. Also, want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed, etc! Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter. R&R!

"Harry look, the doggy is back," Neville shouted, excitement painting his lungs as his short legs carried him aimlessly down the grassy hills of Potter Manor. It was truly a large property that went for what seemed like days for the boys. If it wasn't for the house-elves, they would surely get lost all the time.

That was part of the reason that Neville liked sticking by the main property and the greenhouses, the other reason, of course, was that he loved plants.

"Here I come," Harry shouted, secretly letting the garden snake he was talking to down into the grass. Even children held secrets. Harry wasn't any different. He took off running down the hill after his friend, only slowing himself to a stop right out side the fence that separated his property and the next.

The fence wasn't really there, it was just a clever way to make the ward lines look normal to the muggles that lived in the small town near them, but Harry and Neville hadn't really known that. To them, it was just a fence that the large black dog at the bottom of the hill had refused to cross.

Upon seeing them, the dog barked happily while lowing his upper half of his body low to the ground and wagging his tail. He released a ball he had in his mouth and used his nose to push it past the face and into the waiting hands of Harry,

Harry laughed, and played along, before tossing the ball as far as he could back over the fence. This continued for about a half hour, with Neville and Harry taking turns throwing the ball before Euphemia came down, and the dog took off in the other direction.

"Wait," she called out, but it was too late. The dog was gone.

Sirius blinked a few times to wake himself up. He stared peacefully at the rotating fan, on the ceiling. Its movements were so rhythmic, and in an odd way, the movements and sound put him at peace.

He knew where he was, it was an apartment in Muggle London that he rented but it never felt like home. He knew magic and electricity really didn't go together, so he had used magic to make the place seem electric. Simple household spells made even the most magical of houses feel mundane. It was obviously working for him, especially if the warm body next to him seemed so comfortable. Still, it wasn't home. He couldn't go there, not yet.

He groaned as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He slowly opened the drawer to his bedside stand and shielded his spell with his body. He didn't remember much of the previous night, or much of any previous night if he was honest, so he really didn't know if the woman lying naked in his bed was a witch or muggle.

He lazily flicked his wand, and the time shot up. Silent spells still made him feel as cool as the first time he ever performed one.

It was a quarter past eleven. Remus was supposed to come over at noon. He turned to look at the dark-skinned beauty in the bed behind him. She was sleeping ever so peacefully, and he couldn't find it in himself to wake her up. Merlin she was beautiful, her face was so angelic, and her curls were almost as mesmerizing as that fan. Too bad he couldn't remember her name.

He rose as quietly as he could and walked into his bathroom which was conveniently attached to his bedroom in his small flat. He went over to the light switch, and instead of flipping in, tapped a tile three tiles to the left of his light where he kept his potions. He quickly downed a hang-over potion of his own, before slipping on into a vile for the woman in his bed. He would never be known as a bad host.

On his way out of his bedroom, and into the kitchen, he stopped on his way to put some clothes on. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go, so he didn't see a need to properly clean himself. He dressed quietly and gave himself a look over in the mirror.

"You look like shit," the mirror spoke to him bluntly, a reflection of himself talking back. It had been a present that James had left him, it was supposed to keep him humble. The only reason he hadn't broken the damn thing was because James left it, and he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He should have ignored it, but felt compelled to talk back, "Shh, I can't remember if she is a muggle."

The mirror version of him rolled its eyes, and sheepishly grinned "Of course you don't, you're an idiot."

This time he had enough sense to walk away. Too often he had found himself arguing with that thing, especially when he was drunk. He had said some awful things to himself when he was drunk.

He walked in the kitchen and started the kettle for his afternoon tea. He eventually decided to cook brunch. He figured if he couldn't remember her name, he should at least make it up by cooking her brunch.

Sirius started off by poaching some eggs and frying some bacon. He never really enjoyed beans, partially due to Berties, so he skipped those instead opting to go for hash browns. The smell eventually woke the woman from her slumber, because she eventually emerged from the room with a brilliant smile.

"Good morning beautiful," Sirius said happily, taking the time to get his first good sober look at her. She was naked still, halfway hiding her body between the doorframe and the open space. She was beautiful, and he would love to spend more time with her but was too embarrassed to ask her out during the day time. He still couldn't remember her name. She probably wouldn't like that.

Her smile brightened, "Why don't you leave all that and come back to bed with me?"

He was tempted, of course, but sadly shook his head, "My best mate is supposed to be here soon, he's a little prude, and I'm sure you wouldn't want him to hear the noises you make."

He was making shit up at that point, he had no clue what she sounded like during sex, but it worked, as she started to giggle which caused her chest to jiggle, which made him a little happy. He smirked triumphantly, he still had it. Whatever it was.

"Fine," she said her mood suddenly changing as her face transformed into a pout, "but you have to make it up to me next time."

Sirius highly doubted there would be a next time but shrugged his shoulders anyway, "Whatever you want beautiful."

She sauntered over to him to give him a quick peck on the lips, before swaying beautifully away and closed the door.

"That was almost better than the fan," he muttered, before shouting out, "Tea or Coffee?"

"Coffee," she responded, but she sounded quite irritated although he couldn't figure out why. He felt like he was missing something. Shrugging again, he made her Coffee, adding the potion just before he set her cup on the counter.

She emerged from the room, this time clothed, and it was his turn to pout. "You didn't have to get dressed."

She giggled again, it was kind of contagious. "Remus is coming over remember? You wouldn't want to share me, would you?"

Confusion flashed, but he did his best to hide it. How did she know it was Moony who was coming over? Instead he smiled warmly, "You're all mine."

There would probably be a different one in his bed that night if he was honest, but he wasn't going to tell her that. This is how most days went. He'd wake up to some beauty in his bed, cook her breakfast, kick her out, wait for Remus, and then get drunk and do it all over again. Sometimes Remus didn't come, and he would be left bored in his own thoughts, but he was fine with that. He really didn't like being bothered.

She was different though, because when she got done eating, she got up to leave herself, grabbing her purse before she walked out.

"I'll see you again?" she asked, her big brown eyes staring up at him.

"Of course," he lied easily and kissed her forehead. A sharp knock interrupted them, and because she was leaving anyways, she went to open it.

"Remus!" she said warmly, as she opened the door.

Moony, ever the gentlemen, smiled back. "Pam, it's so nice to see you."

Sirius made a face at him, and Remus fought hard not to roll his eyes. He knew exactly where this was going. It had happened so often.

"Maybe, we'll catch up next time," said Pam "I'd love to hear some proper stories about you two growing up."

Sirius shook his head vigorously, but Moony was contempt to ignore him. "Absolutely."

She smiled at him again before she left, and Moony finally gave the eye roll he was holding in.

"How do you know her name?" Sirius asked, a tad bit interested. "You didn't use legilimency did you?"

"Seriously?" Moony replied. "That's her third time here this week, and you still don't remember her name? She practically has a drawer."

Sirius shrugged.

"No, seriously," Remus said, trying to be, well, serious. "You drink way too much."

"I drink to keep the pain away," Sirius responded absently. He knew it was cliché, but it was honest. Remus sighed.

"Nobody blames you," Moony said, and Sirius groaned. He was tired of hearing that. Tired of being told that it wasn't his fault. Nobody understood.

"I blame me, that's all that really matters," Sirius responded, going back over to his kitchen island and sitting down. "I made enough food for you if you're hungry."

Moony sighed sadly. It was quite irritating, this dance that they had. Two or Three times a week he had come here trying to convince Sirius to stop blaming himself and to go visit his Euphemia and his godson. Every time, Sirius came up with excuses to why he couldn't. Sometimes he wanted to strangle the guy.

He went over to sit at the island next to his friend and passed him the Prophet he was so used to bringing him. "Have you at least thought about going to therapy?"

"I'm not going to see a muggle mind healer," Sirius responded flatly.

"You don't seem to mind bringing muggle women here nightly," Moody countered.

Sirius shrugged, that was different. "Not everyone can be a perfect god like you. Who do you think you are, Ares?"

Moony again rolled his eyes, "When have you ever seen me so violent?"

Sirius laughed, "I could name a few times if you'd like?"

Moony shook his head in frustration again, "This isn't about me."

"I know, dad, I know," Sirius responded. "Can we save the lecture this time?"

Remus sighed and sipped his tea. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't keep trying. James would have wanted him too.

Sirius looked up at his best mate, studying him a bit, trying to judge whether he had the right to ask his next question. He suddenly felt small, yet he was a Gryffindor for a reason. He sighed.

"How is Harry anyway," Sirius asked, and knew he made a mistake once Remus growled at him.

"You don't get to ask that question," Remus barked, throwing the paper down and closing his eyes in obvious frustration. "You haven't been to see him in four years, and you think that you can just live vicariously through me. Get your shit together Sirius, before it's too late."

"I do," Sirius responded quietly, his head hung, shoulders drooped, in obvious shame, "I do."

Remus raised his eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"It started a few weeks ago," Sirius admitted. "You weren't coming over, and I was curious. So, I went over there."

He sighed, "I sniffed around the outer wards as Padfoot, hoping to catch a glimpse of him."

"Its supposed to be under Fidelius by Dumbledore himself," Remus responded.

"She sent me a note, soon after she got me out. Wanted me to come over for dinner. I was too much of a coward to go," he responded, the guilt vibrating from his body.

"I guess she hasn't had the need to update it," he replied after a short silence, sadness commanding his voice, tears freely flowing. "After all these years, she still doesn't hate me like she should."

"Sirius," Remus tried, but Sirius shook his head and began to talk again.

"I saw Neville first. It was like Frank and Alice fused together in the form of a child. Sandy blond hair like his mother, round chubby cheeks like his dad, and his joy, his joy of rolling down that hill could light up the world."

Remus jumped slightly as Sirius pounded his fist on the island.

"How I face him, face Augusta after what my own blood did to his parents?" Sirius snarled, looking up to meet Remus's eyes.

"Sirius," he tried again, again to be interrupted.

"No, you wanted me to fucking talk, so I'm talking," Sirius shouted.

He took a deep breathe and continued. "You could tell he was a little afraid, not that he doesn't have reason to be. He immediately called for Harry, and instantly he was there, like a true friend is supposed to be."

"He stepped in front of Neville like a shield, spitting image of James, but with Lily's eyes," Sirius cried harder. "He looks healthy. Happy even. What could I ever have to offer? Why would he ever need me? The person who was too scared to protect his parents."

"You're wrong," Remus said, determination filling his voice as he waved his hand and magically stopped Sirius from interrupting again. It was his turn to sigh.

"He asks about you," Remus started which caused Sirius to snap his head up, "Just the other day I was sitting with him. In the library of all places. Four years old and already reading and understanding books, can you believe it?"

"I imagine Lily was reading at four," Sirius responded with a small smile through his tears.

"Probably," Remus laughed before continuing his story. "We were sitting there quietly, Harry reading his picture book about magical animals, Neville idly playing with a plant of all things, when suddenly he looked up at me."

"What happened to Padfoot? he had asked," Remus smiled again, mimicking young Harry's voice, "He got me that broom when I was a baby, and used to do that funny trick where he would turn into that big black dog and lick me."

Shocked ran across Sirius face, "He knows? He knew it was me when I went to see him yesterday? I always run when Euphemia comes, how does he have such a great memory of when he was a baby?"

Remus shrugged, "He's smart Sirius. He has been for as long as I've known him. He picks up on things that normal four-year-old children wouldn't."

"The point is that he remembers you fondly," Remus continued, "And I'd be willing to bet that he wants to see you."

"No," Sirius responded pointing to himself. "Not like this."

Remus pulled his closest friend into a strong hug, before pulling back to look him dead in his eyes "Sirius, you need help."

"I know," responded Sirius. "I know."

"Gran," the five-year-old whined, his arm stretched while his tiny hand gripped a paint brush, "Do I have to paint today? It's my birthday."

Euphemia laughed, sometimes it had hurt that he reminded her so much of James, but today was not one of those days.

"Now Harry," she responded, and almost giggled again when the small boy took that as his cue to take a break, "Painting was the foundation of your father's great skill in the art Transfiguration, the stroke of a brush is just like the flick of a wand. When you're sitting and taking lessons with Professor McGonagall in a couple of years, you will thank me."

She let out another small smile as the boy turned to pout at her, something that she had become immune to over the years, before continuing, "Besides, how would Professor McGonagall feel if I told her one of her favorite five-year-old boys didn't like her subject?"

Harry dramatically sighed in defeat and turned back to his painting, but it was Neville's turn to give her some of his own sass.

"But Mrs. Euphema-," he had begun only to be interrupted with the correct way to say her name, pronunciation was, after all, very important for young wizards, "But Mrs. Potter, I only like plants. Why do I have to paint?"

"Neville," Augusta started, "Mind your manners."

"Oh, let the boy be," Euphemia responded, "Besides he has a valid point. I'll just make sure to tell Professor McGonagall, when she comes over to celebrate their birthdays later, that Neville here doesn't like Transfiguration."

"No!" Neville shouted, before jumping back to his canvas. "Mrs. Gonagall can't be upset with me!"

This time both Augusta and Euphemia laughed. It still amazed them how their dear old friend had managed to put the fear of Merlin in school children. They had stories that could easily ruin her image, of course, but they liked their friend too much.

The boys went back to practicing their painting, and the two ladies had went back to their own vices. Augusta chose to knit, something she picked up soon after John had died when the boys were three. With Frank being mentally insane, and John dying, she had to figure out something to keep herself busy. For her it was knitting and politics. She refused to let the great Longbottom name be tainted and being a force in the Wizengamot was her way of pushing the family along, at least until Neville could take the reins.

Euphemia usually left Augusta up to her study, so that she could prepare herself for the Wizengamot, and the many boards, and offices her friend held to keep herself busy. In the meantime, she would keep an eye on Harry and Neville, making sure that they had their fun as kids, while trying to make sure they developed properly along the way.

Euphemia's choice was a crochet needle. She had no interest in politics and had very little reason to work at all due to the royalties from Sleekeazy's. So instead she dedicated her time preparing Harry and Neville, the Longbottom's had practically moved in, for life, and a small blanket occasionally.

To her, Harry was the perfect child. He reminded her so much of James, but the flashes of Lily were too bright to ignore. He was so smart. He had surprisingly picked up walking, talking, reading, and writing before he had turned 4. Even when he couldn't, it seemed like he understood everything she ever told him perfect.

Neville was more timid and shy and wasn't as far along reading and writing, but it was obvious that Harry had a positive effect on him. He loved being outside, and the boy was obsessed with plants. He loved them and would spend days in the greenhouses just looking at the different plants if you would let him.

Together they were quite the duo. They almost did everything together. They ate together, played together, hell, the even insisted on sharing the same room when they slept. They were brothers in all but blood and reminded her a lot of Sirius and James. Hopefully they could find a Remus and avoid a Peter.

They boys were fit, Harry was lanky, but so was James at his age, while Neville was a bit shorter and stockier, but both were very healthy, young wizards. They barely did anything too crazy, except the time she caught them trying to practice magic with their fathers' wands.

The pop of a small house-elf bough her out of her thoughts. "Mistress, a man has entered the wards. He smells like that dog that Master Harry and Master Neville like to play with."

"Thank you, Tilly," Euphemia beamed.

Sirius had apparated to the top of the hill, on the other side of the property. One of the cool things about Potter Manor was located on top of a series of hills that were basically the bases to another series of hills.

Standing there, just outside the wards, he had to confess, he was nervous. The last year had been taxing on him for sure. He had to face a lot of truths about himself that just wasn't easy. Therapy helped. His therapist had even gotten into to a muggle alcoholics anonymous program that got rid of his drinking habit. He had been sober for 8 months now, and he was quite proud of it.

The wind started to blow, as if it were prodding him to go down the hill and he smiled. He remembered this, as a child. Every time they came back from Hogwarts, him and James had rolled down this hill, the loser had to de-gnome the garden outside the green houses. He won more often then he lost, but that didn't matter not now.

A crack of thunder sounded in the distance, and it began to sprinkle, the perfect cover to hide his tears. In the clouds, he could have sworn he saw a stag and a doe, staring down at him. He blinked, and just like that they were gone.

"I hope you're not too mad at me," he spoke to the air, knowing James would somehow hear him. "I lost my spark there for a while and wasn't quite sure I would ever get it back."

"But here I am," he continued. "I'm trying, and I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I'll do the best I can for you, for Harry. I'll grow old for you. I'll find some nice girl to settle down with, to have kids of my own. I'll do everything I can to protect Harry, and Neville, from now until the day we meet again brother. I promise."

A rousing sound of thunder clapped again, and he threw himself down the hill, laughing while he tumbled aimlessly to the bottom. When his momentum stopped, he found himself staring up at the sky and began to laugh, just like they did when they were teen.

He picked himself up, off the wet grass, and took a step towards the front door. At first, it was heavy, and he felt as if the steps were labored, but the closer he got the easier it was. This place had a familiar feeling for him. He reached up to knock on the door, but before he could it had already been swung open.

He stared at her, mouth slightly agape, at a lost for words. She looked good for her age, and it looked like taking care of two young boys was doing wonders for him. She smiled warmly, and he suddenly felt guilty.

"Mum," he started, trying to find the right words to say, before she shushed him quietly.

"It's okay now," she responded back to him, and pulled him into a crushing hug. "You're home."

Behind them, a five-year-old beamed. This had been the best birthday ever, Sirius had finally decided to come home.

"How nauseating," the voice that always occupied his head had spoken.

"Even you can't ruin this for me Tom," Harry responded, all in his brain.

"I suppose," Tom replied, "Although, I would guess that your godfathers return would mean that I don't have much time with you."

"That's okay," Harry responded, although, he admitted, he felt a little sad. "I don't need you as much anymore, and you have already taught me a lot."

He heard the voice in his head sigh, "When I leave, I can't promise that you won't be flooded with everything I have ever done. I'll try to protect you, but I don't know if it will work."

"Come on," Harry responded. "It can't be that bad."

"You are so naïve Harry," Tom responded, and he began to think, which was weird for Harry because it felt like his thoughts were thinking.

"Promise me something," Tom said, after a few moments of silence, both, threw Harry's eyes, watching Sirius cry into his grandmother's arms as she spoke softly to him.

"What is it?" Harry responded.

"Promise you never forget this feeling. Love, I think you would call it. I never learned what love was, and I think, through you, I might finally understand it now."

"Yeah," Harry responded, "It feels quite nice doesn't it?"

He felt Tom mentally nod, "Good bye Harry."

That was the last thing he remembered that day, because the others watched in horror as he crumpled to the floor, smacking his head hard, against the floor, why a black smoke that held the face of a young boy with tears in his eyes, erupted from his scar.

A/N: So again, tell me what you think, how you feel, etc. I am dying to know! Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review!