"Without publicity there can be no public support, and without public support every nation must decay."

- Benjamin Disraeli quote (British Prime Minister and Novelist. 1804-1881)

Chapter 14 – Opinion

The weeks leading up to the end of the holidays were the busiest ones in Harry's life. He found himself constantly stretched to his limits, forcing his mind to think and reason in ways he had never imagined doing. For the first time in years, Harry found that studying could actually be interesting.

He had some of the best professors in the world teaching him, and they pushed him to strive harder, accepting nothing less than his best. It was tiring, overwhelming and sometimes frustrating, but Harry enjoyed the feeling of fulfillment that enveloped him as he collapsed on his bed after a long day's work.

Sirius was always there to provide encouragement or to help him to unwind. It was a novel experience for Harry - having a sense of belonging, and knowing that he could lean on his godfather for the much required support. The evenings were often filled with laughter, and some tears, as Sirius shared several other stories about James and Lily that he had not mentioned in his letters. Sometimes they would watch memories of the funnier incidents through the pensieve. The first few times, Harry was too choked up to say anything as he watched his parents standing right before him. He was careful not to obsess over the memories, and of what could have been, knowing that Sirius was worried about that.

The Marauder hour was a great source of fun. Sometimes, Sirius would teach Harry one of the funnier spells the Marauders had created, and describe in great detail how they had executed it in Hogwarts. Through this, Harry learnt a great deal about spell-creation, and found the subject fascinating. Sirius, noticing his interest, had suggested that he consider spell-crafting as a career. After that Harry spent most of his free time browsing through books on the subject and surfing the net to find out about magical universities offering the course.

Another advantage of the Marauder hour was that it pushed Harry into become very very sneaky. Living with the Dursleys had forced him to master the art of stealth from a young age; what with him having to sneak around to get some food, escape Dudley's gang, or pretend to be slow in school. Now all of this inadvertent training was helping him deal with his godfather's crazy mind. The man would suddenly decide to demonstrate his repertoire of spells by having an impromptu duel filled with some of the wackiest spells possible. Harry had quickly learnt that being unpredictable gave Sirius a great advantage in their duels. There was no way he was going to take this humiliation lying down, so he scoured the library whenever possible trying to find prank-worthy spells. Their duels were still horribly embarrassing but at least now both of them were victims. More often than not, their duels ended with both of them dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.

In sharp contrast were the Family Heir and Occlumency training sessions. These lessons were treated with utmost seriousness. It was vital for Harry to learn to shield his mind as soon as possible, as Snape, if not Dumbledore would use every opportunity to probe his thoughts. Harry was progressing quickly in this department, but while he probably would be able to protect his secrets from a casual probe, there was no way he was going to be able to keep a determined Dumbledore out. The only thing he could do in such a situation was keep a low profile.

Dumbledore was probably suspicious after the trial, and had communicated, through Remus, how foolish it was of Harry to share his memories with a Ministry official. The rebuke itself had not annoyed Harry as much as the fact that the man didn't have the decency to tell him so, face-to-face. Any illusions he had about Remus siding with his best friend's son over the revered headmaster, were clearly shattered after that conversation.

-------Flashback--------

"What happened?" Sirius asked, as Harry stormed into the training mood in an openly sour mood.

"Professor Lupin," Harry replied curtly, trying to reign in his temper.

"You're still calling him that?" Sirius asked, and at Harry's confused expression he further elaborated, "He's not your professor anymore."

Harry shrugged. "Not like he's asked me to call him anything else."

A dark look fleetingly crossed Sirius' face, before he schooled his features. "What happened?" He repeated.

"Lupin cornered me in a corridor. Was counseling me about how disappointed Dumbledore was about the fact that I spoke to a Ministry official. That it would be to my benefit if I took Dumbledore's advice before I gave out sensitive information." Harry scowled darkly.

Sirius didn't look the least bit surprised. "Hmm," was all he said, before bending down to continue his task of rolling out the mats.

"You look like you expected this," Harry asked, a bit accusingly.

Sirius didn't answer for a moment, and Harry thought that he was going to ignore the probing. But then, Sirus spoke up –

"I expected nothing else from Remus. There's a lot of bitterness there. Sometimes I think he was as much of a coward as Peter was."

Harry gaped. Out of all the things he had expected Sirius to say, this was certainly not it.

"W-why?" Harry asked.

Once again Sirius took his time answering. When he replied, his tone was soft, his eyes distant. "We were all so naïve. So young and foolish to think we were different. We wouldn't lose each other in the war. We were stupid enough to believe that we could remain the way we were forever. We believed that the Marauderswere smarter than those foolish wizards who couldn't defend themselves."

Sirius shook his head as he remembered their youthful ignorance. "Less than a year out of Hogwarts, and we knew better. What hope did four barely graduated kids have of surviving a bloody war that hadn't stopped for years? It came as quite a shock and each of us dealt with it differently. James and I, if anything, grew closer. But Peter and Remus – they weren't as close to us as before."

Sirius, fists tightly balled, turned away and continued, "Peter was terrified. He'd always believed that we would protect him from everything, and seeing his heroes so helpless…I think that's when he must have decided to join what he assumed was the winning side. But on the outside there was no indication of any change. We knew he was afraid, but we didn't have an inkling that he had gone over to the Dark side."

Harry was watching him with wide eyes. For a moment, Sirius regretted even beginning this conversation, but he wanted Harry to know. At least some good would come out of all those past mistakes if Harry learnt how to better protect himself.

"Remus became more withdrawn. He was having a tough time coping with all the anti-werewolf prejudice. He was too proud to ask for our help."

Pursing his lips, Sirius continued in a much harsher tone than before, "Then Voldemort fell. Losing James and Lily…," Sirius choked up. Even after all these years, the death of his only true family still ached beyond belief.

Sirius looked straight into Harry's eyes.

"I shouldn't have lost my head like that. I can't tell you how sorry I am that I left you there like that. At that time, I knew no reason; all I wanted was revenge."

Harry shook his head sadly. "Sirius, please. I told you, I don't blame you for any of it. We know that Dumbledore would have still wanted to control me, and who knows how far he would have gone to get you out of his way. Right now you're here, guiding me in this war, while nobody else gives a damn about me as long as I play the hero when they ask me to. I don't want to speculate on what might have been."

Sirius felt a lump in his throat. Harry's words wouldn't put to rest the doubts that still plagued his mind, but they still afforded him a sense of comfort.

"Still, I should have known better. But I'm not going to argue the point with you. You were asking me about my anger with Remus. Harry, you have no idea how close the Marauders were. We were always there for each other. When Remus lost his mother, when James' parents were killed in an attack, when I ran away from home,…we've seen each other through all those tough times. So naturally, all that time in Azkaban, I assumed Remus would have been taking care of you like a surrogate uncle, and when I found out that you didn't even know of his existence until two years ago…"

Sirius' tone grew cold. "He turned his back on the Marauders just like Peter did. If things hadn't gone the way they had, you'd have been calling him 'Uncle Moony' and he would have been like a second godfather to you. Instead of being there for you, he's distanced himself to such an extent that you call him 'Professor Lupin', like he's a bloody stranger. I know it's unfair to hold it against him, considering I was the one who abandoned you first. And there was no way the Ministry would have allowed a werewolf to adopt the Boy-who-lived. But I can't help but think that he should have made an attempt to at least visit you once."

Sirius sighed and turned to look at Harry. "I don't expect you to understand, Harry. And I don't want to color your opinion of him, though it's a bit too late for that now. I just want you to question everyone's actions around you. At the end of the day, whether someone is a devout Dumbledore follower or a fanatic Death Eater, everyone lives to serve themselves and their family. If you can understand their motives you'll understand their actions."

Harry frowned. Those words were disturbingly familiar to Voldemort's 'only power is real' speech in his first year. "Not everyone is like that, Sirius. My parents died to protect me. You've sacrificed so much to be by my side. There are some people who strive for a greater cause."

Sirius gave Harry a wry smile. "Sometimes, even ordinary people can rise to greatness through a single act of outstanding bravery. But except for that one moment, they're still ordinary people with flaws and all. Your parents were human. I'm human. No one can be a hero all the time. So if anyone gives you an impassioned speech about your role in this war, sprouting words like 'sacrifice' and 'greater good', I want you to turn tail and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction."

-------End of Flashback--------

At first Harry had been quite shocked at the extent of Sirius' anger against Lupin. But upon further contemplation it was easy to see why it was difficult for his godfather to trust anyone in the Order, especially someone who was supposed to be one of his best friends.

Harry understood that Lupin's attitude towards Dumbledore stemmed from his gratefulness at being allowed to attend Hogwarts as a child. Harry clearly recognized that his own behaviour mirrored Lupin's; after all, for the longest time he had believed that Hogwarts was a means to escape the Dursleys, and Dumbledore, his saviour. Nevertheless, while he understood why Lupin chose to follow Dumbledore, it was too risky to enlighten the man on Dumbledore's true nature any time soon.

But if his conversation with Sirius had opened his eyes to Professor Lupin's flaws, it had also made him aware of his godfather's own failings. For all his jovial attitude with Harry, Sirius was still too bitter, too angry with his former friends. Harry hoped that Sirius would learn to eventually be at peace and stop torturing himself with 'what-ifs'.

Sometimes he wondered if Sirius was only helping him out as a form of penance for his past mistakes. Then, Harry realized that this was his own insecurity speaking, convincing him that he was worthless, that no one would ever want to help him.

It was unfortunate that their tragic past had made them more alike than they knew. And with that realization, Harry understood that Sirius needed his help as much as Harry needed his.

"What do have there, Tonks?" Sirius asked the auror, who was currently dumping piles of boxes on his kitchen table.

"Newspapers," Tonks answered, as she pulled out and enlarged yet another magically-shrunk carton stored in her pocket.

Sirius reached into a box for one of the newspapers – International Wizarding Insight – and quickly glanced at the headlines. Two articles placed side-by-side on the front page were the first to catch his eye:

'British Minister Accused of Terror Attack Cover-Up'

'Attempted Murder of the Boy-who-lived: Minister Aide Indicted'

The Headlines were accompanied with two pictures; one showed a pale and sweaty Fudge seated in his chair, being administered Veritaserum and the other one was a dramatic picture of Umbridge being carted away by the aurors.

"Not her best angle," Sirius commented offhandedly, and laughed at Tonks' incredulous look.

"The Ministry is seizing every copy they can get their hands on." Kingsley remarked, as he stood up from his seat and headed towards the table. Gesturing towards the boxes, he continued, "And I'm guessing, Tonks here managed to grab a couple of them."

"A couple?" Tonks snorted. "There are nearly two hundred copies in there. International Wizarding Insight, Magical News Network, BeWitch Today … every newspaper worth their salt has given prominent coverage to the trial."

"Two hundred is a pretty good number," Kingsley acknowledged. "But there are hundreds of copies out there that have escaped the Ministry's clutches."

"But how is this happening? I've never seen so many international newspapers floating around!" Tonks looked frustrated.

"That's because there never was any interest in these publications before. But now, the guys who have the rights to sell them here must have realized what a scoop this is. They can make a killing selling these." Sirius explained and then went back to reading the articles.

"Not anymore. The Minister has banned all foreign publications." Tonks shook her head, and sat down dejected.

"A knee-jerk reaction that's certainly not going to help his cause. Banning something only fans the interest further." Kingsley said.

"So what did you bring these here for?" Sirius asked, after he had discretely swiped a few copies to show Harry.

"I was planning on asking Dumbledore if we could use them for our Order recruitment drive." Tonks looked eager to prove her worth to Dumbledore.

Sirius hid a frown. He had expected that Tonks would be fairly easy to rescue from Dumbledore's net, but the woman was exhibiting early warning signs of hardcore Dumbledore fanaticism.

Sirius turned his attention back to the papers and mulled over several ideas in his head, trying to find the best way to maximize the positive publicity these papers would bring Harry. With the large number of these papers suddenly in circulation, quite a few people would have no doubt read the articles and realized that the Prophet had a shady agenda in maligning Harry's name.

The floo chimed indicating that the other Order members were starting to arrive for the meeting. People began milling around the kitchen, talking to other members as they took their seats. Kingsley moved to stand near the fireplace in order to keep a watchful eye on the arrivals.

Sirius spotted some of the younger lot drifting towards them, trying to get near Auror Tonks, and perhaps overhear some grand tale of adventure. Sirius himself was an impressive character to the younger crowd. The older crowd had at one time believed him to be Voldemort's right hand man, and thus found it hard to shake off their mistrust. But as the innocent man who managed to stay sane in Azkaban for thirteen years and as the only known prisoner to escape its horrifying confines, many of the new recruits were in complete awe of him. Sirius was suddenly hit by a brainwave.

"You know what we really need from our new recruits is ambition and initiative. We need them to be resourceful; have ideas of their own instead of always looking to Dumbledore for guidance." Sirius casually stated, as he folded one of the papers and placed back in the box.

Tonks looked thoughtful. "You think I shouldn't ask him then?"

Sirius shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know. Dumbledore's got his eye on several things. He's got to see the bigger picture for all of us, you know? I'm amazed at how he has the patience to listens to all the silly comments and questions people ask him. They really ought to have a bit of sense and not trouble him with such trivial things."

Tonks hummed in understanding.

Sirius stood up. "Come on, Tonks. We need to do an Imperius-check on the new arrivals."

Tonks nodded, and hurried forward.

Sirius glanced back at the four young men and one woman who had overheard their conversation. "Mind moving those boxes out of the way?"

One of them - a short, bulky looking man with sandy hair – peered into the boxes. "What do they contain?"

"Newspapers. All proving Fudge's incompetence. Which is why the Minister's banned them." Sirius ran a hand through his hair and sighed in a tired manner. "If the public could read them they'd understand the truth. About You-know-who and Dumbledore being right and all that."

The five exchanged surprised looks. The girl pulled out one of the papers, and the boys all crowded around her trying to read over her shoulder.

"But – this proves everything! It's everything we've been trying to achieve." The girl looked up with an ardent expression on her face. She glanced around at the boys who were all nodding their heads, still not taking their eyes off the newspaper.

"Like I said," Sirius continued, "the papers would give us the credibility we need. Just going around talking people into believing us, isn't going to work."

"So, there's nothing we can do?" A lanky looking boy at the back exclaimed, with a despondent look.

"Not unless you can figure out a way to get them pasted all across Diagon Alley or something," Sirius said, laughing as though he found the idea absurd.

A gleam entered the brunette's eyes and she glanced back at the papers, her mind obviously working furiously.

Sirius internally crowed with triumph. "Anyway, we've got a lot to discuss today, and I doubt that Dumbledore will want to be bothered with this. If you can just move the boxes to a corner or something, we'll figure out what to do with them later," Sirius said dismissively and moved to join Tonks. From the corner of his eye, he could see the youngsters whispering excitedly among themselves as they levitated the boxes to a corner.

Sirius couldn't wait to see the after-effects of his little prank.

"Hey, Martin Miggs comics!"

Harry looked up to see Ron standing in front of them, eyes fixed on the pile of comics he had placed next to him on the couch.

"I love these," Ron exclaimed, plonking himself on the carpet and reaching for the pile.

Harry absently nodded and continued flipping through the comic as he waited to be called for dinner. The Order meeting had taken longer than expected and Mrs. Weasley had banned everyone (especially her children) from 'helping' her in the kitchen, when she had spotted a hungry Fred attempt to steal a bite of half-cooked potatoes.

Feeling the couch dip under someone's weight, Harry turned to see Hermione picking up a comic. For a moment, both Ron and Harry ogled at her. Hermione reading comics?

Sensing their gaze, she looked up and raised an eyebrow challengingly.

Harry grinned and went back to the comic book. Sirius had found a pile of these old comics in his room and had handed them over to Harry as part of his wizarding-culture-immersion program.

'The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle' was apparently a very popular comic book series in the Magical World, and Harry had seen dozens of kids at Hogwarts reading them in the common room. But while there were some hilarious gags in there, there were plenty of subtle jokes that Harry didn't get - the kind of jokes that only someone raised in a magical family would understand. While Sirius would no doubt explain them to him later, Harry was also determined to ask him if wizards really bought some of the misconceptions about Muggles that the books propagated.

"This is ridiculous!" Hermione all but shrieked. "They're making us all out to be barbarians."

Harry was pretty sure he knew exactly what had set Hermione off. He peered into the comic and sure enough she was reading the issue in which the character Martin attempts to explain dentistry to magical folk. Only, the writers had put in a completely absurd explanation about the medical science. Braces were apparently used to prevent teeth from falling off, dentures were supposedly second-hand teeth - it was no wonder Hermione (whose parents were dentists) was presently seething.

Harry began to shift away from Hermione, as discretely as possible, to avoid being at the epicenter of the impending explosion.

"What's the problem," Ron asked, not looking up from his book.

Hermione took that as an invitation and began to rave and rant, waving her hands about wildly as she emphasized certain points in her argument.

"It's exactly this kind of material that spreads all those ridiculous notions about pureblood supremacy and inferiority of Muggle-borns. We can't allow such a propaganda to continue unabated. There need to be counter measures of some sort to keep such kind of negative publicity from implanting the seeds of bigotry in wizards' minds."

Hermione was clearly on her soap-box.

Harry was amused to notice Ron supplying an occasional "that's right" and "absolutely" without once looking up to see what Hermione was talking about. Harry himself agreed with what Hermione was saying, but couldn't help but worry that she would go about attempting to solve this problem the wrong way.

Hermione finished her little speech, and noticed that Ron hadn't focused on a single word she was saying. For a moment it looked like she was going to explode, but then she just sighed and shook her head.

Spotting Harry's surprised look, she smiled a bit bitterly and muttered, "Life is easier when I just use him as my sounding board. No point expecting anything more."

Harry nodded sagely. The only two apparent driving forces in Ronald Weasley's life were food and Quidditch. Anything else wasn't worth paying attention to. Harry briefly wondered if Hermione had grown out of her little crush on their ginger-haired friend. During the Triwizard tournament it had been fairly obvious that there was something going on between the two of them. Even he had been able to figure out that much, even though Hermione generally accused him of being clueless.

"Something needs to be done, Harry," Hermione said, looking at him beseechingly.

"And you're going to be the one to do it?" Harry asked, making sure that his tone would not be misconstrued as mocking.

Still, Hermione flushed and looked away. "No one else seems to care."

Harry rubbed his eyes wearily. Last summer, he would have gone along with whatever crusade Hermione planned, merely to keep the peace. But now, with everything that had happened, there was no way he was going to find the time to support Hermione's school-yard revolution.

Yet, Hermione was right. Something had to be done about this. Poking fun at Muggles was a popular wizarding past time, and it left Muggle-borns feeling awkward and out of place. But buttons and slogans weren't going to change the situation overnight.

Hermione seemed to take his prolonged silence as disinterest.

"You of all people should understand what I'm talking about, Harry," she snapped, frowning at him heavily.

Harry felt his temper rise. "Why? Because of my amazing experience with my Muggle relatives?"

Hermione looked stunned. "N-no, Harry. I meant that your mum was a Muggle-born. She would have had to put up with the same kind of prejudice and if…," Hermione paused and licked her lips nervously, "…if she had survived and your father hadn't, then she wouldn't be able to touch a sickle of your father's money. It's not just these comic books. There are laws that prevent Muggle-borns from accessing the money of their pureblood spouses. A pureblood marrying a muggle-born is still frowned upon by a large section of society. And no one will ever say it outright, but everyone knows that a Muggle-born working for the Ministry will never be able to rise above the Department Assistant level."

Harry felt the familiar head-spinning sensation that always occurred when Hermione overloaded him with information.

His mother would have been left a penniless widow if she had survived? Was Hermione right?

"It's why I'm so worried about my OWLs," Hermione continued, as she stared at her clasped hands. "I've grown up hearing my parents tell me that if I work hard enough I can achieve anything. When I heard about the magical world, I was so excited about the possibilities. The way McGonagall painted this world! I thought it would be some kind of fantasy."

She smiled a bit bitterly at the memory. "I had a full scholarship at one of the best schools in the country and I gave it up. I thought that neglecting my Muggle studies wouldn't matter. I was worried that I didn't know anything about this world, but I figured that if I worked hard enough, it wouldn't be a problem."

Hermione looked at Harry with jaded eyes. "And then I find that I'll never be good enough, because of something I can't control. So I'm stuck now. I'll never rise in the magical world, but I have no qualifications to make it in the Muggle world either."

The heartfelt confession was interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter. Ron was clutching his stomach, laughing hysterically.

"Oh hell! Martin always cracks me up." Looking up he spotted his two exasperated friends watching him.

"What?" He asked, wondering whether he had missed something important.

Ginny chose that moment to poke her head into the room. "Hey guys, Mum says dinner is ready."

A moment later, Harry and Hermione were the only ones in the room.

"If Ron always moves that fast," Hermione wryly observed, "he won't ever need to learn to apparate."

Harry had decided that Sirius was a genius. Mrs. Weasley would perhaps beg to differ and choose to term his condition 'insanity'. But Harry knew better.

Everything his godfather did for a reason, and it usually turned out to be a good one. Currently the man in question was slouching in a chair in the dark gloomy sitting room. His unshaven face appeared drawn and haggard. From time to time, he would swig a huge bottle of Firewhiskey to his lips and take a long sip, which he would follow with a loud sigh.

"Harry," he rasped, after a while. "Come here."

Hermione and Ginny paused in the middle of their game of Gobstones and looked at Harry worriedly. Mrs. Weasley didn't stop her knitting, but Harry could see her furrow her forehead.

"Yeah, Sirius?" Harry asked, stopping in front of his chair.

Sirius didn't answer for a moment. Then a small smile appeared on his face.

"Sit," he said, waving his hand at the carpet laid out at his feet.

Slightly annoyed that Sirius was treating him like a dog, Harry compiled and looked up at Sirius questioningly.

Sirius grinned again. Harry could see the mischievous sparkle in his eyes but to everyone else he must have looked plain scary.

Sirius always behaved like this at night. The occupants of the house tended to steer clear him of him after dusk, for he was always invariably in a black mood. For hours, he would sit quietly just staring at the fire, not responding to anyone. After a while, they had simply learned to let him be.

But once in a while, he would call Harry to sit near him. He would tell Harry about his father and what a good friend he was. He would tell him about the pranks they played, describing both the planning and the reactions in great detail. He'd talk about how it felt to live without any worry or fear, simply enjoying Hogwarts without the suffocating oppressiveness that war brought with it.

Harry listened intently to it all. And though the other occupants never interrupted, Harry knew that they too were listening to every word.

To everyone else, these were simply the ramblings of a man broken by war. One who longed so deeply for the return of the 'glory days' that he simply could not accept the harsh reality of the present. But Harry knew better.

This was a carefully constructed façade. It was what everyone expected, so it was what Sirius let everyone see. It also set the stage for Harry's actions upon his return to Hogwarts.

Sirius had impressed upon him, the fact that 'appearances could be deceiving' and they were to use that fact to their benefit. If Harry were to suddenly disappear for long stretches of time, or start befriending people of other houses, or generally behave out of character, it would instantly arouse suspicion. What would warrant such a change in attitude so soon after the graveyard incident?

Therefore, Sirius had decided to provide an obvious reason to explain the sudden change. Sirius was the only one who bothered to tell Harry about his family, and the only thing he talked about in front of the others was pranks, pranks and pranks, with the occasional 'enjoy life while you can' advice thrown in. When Harry would start becoming more outgoing at Hogwarts, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that Harry had begun to take his godfather's advice seriously.

The Order was a bit concerned with Sirius' instability, but so far no one had attempted to put a stop to the storytelling sessions. So Sirius would talk till his voice grew hoarse or Prof. Lupin managed to pull the bottle of Firewhiskey away from him, whichever came first. Then Sirius would shuffle off to bed, shoulders hunched, body still thin and weak - an absolutely pathetic figure to look at.

"I don't see you using glamours on your body. How are you still looking so emaciated?" Harry had asked once, after a swimming lesson.

"Potions," Sirius had replied, grinning smugly. "I've soaked all my clothes in them, and they make my body appear hopelessly weak."

"Huh, good idea. Should I do the same?" Harry asked, looking down at his body and imagining a six-pack. "Your old clothes are a better fit than Dudley's."

Sirius coughed and looked away, looking suspiciously like he was trying to hide a laugh. "No need for that yet, I think. We can consider it once you buy yourself some new clothes at Hogsmeade."

"Harry! Come quick!" Harry heard a knock followed by an urgent whisper on the other side of the door.

Moments earlier, he had been in one of the upper training rooms, when the wards had alerted him that Ron and Hermione were heading to his decoy room. He had raced downstairs just in time to hear the knock.

Trying to appear as unruffled as possible, Harry opened the door to find his two friends and Ginny furtively beckoning him towards the edge of the staircase.

"What's happening?" he asked, as the sounds of an argument brewing downstairs could be heard.

"There's a major row going on. We're trying to find out what it's about." Ron said, as Hermione tried to lean over the banister in attempt to catch more of the argument.

"Never fear for the twins are here!" Fred and George chorused, shocking them with their sudden appearance.

"Where did you come from?" Ron asked.

Fred and George ignored his question and pulled out what looked like six detached ears attached to flesh colored strings.

"Extendable ears," they explained, and demonstrated the technique for using them.

"Brilliant!" Harry said, suppressing a shiver at the thought of Rita Skeeter and the twins ever joining forces.

"It was stupid and careless and I don't know what you lot were thinking!" Molly's voice could be clearly heard shrieking, as though she were standing right next to them.

"How was it stupid? Everyone got to see the truth. Fudge can't hush it up if the public knows exactly what he's up to." Harry couldn't identify the young woman who was the owner of the voice.

"Someone might have seen you. They'll pull you in for questioning and then everyone will know the existence of the Order."

"Give us a little more credit. Nobody could have seen us through the invisibility cloaks. Well, except Mad-Eye. Besides, do you really think so little of us? We're Order members too, we know the importance of keeping the organisation a secret." An unidentified man's voice was heard.

"You should have cleared it with Dumbledore. Tonks had managed to get those newspapers after a great deal of effort. You can't just swipe Order property whenever you feel like." Arthur said, although he didn't sound too disappointed or angry at the turn of events.

"Arthur, make them understand. They're a bunch of kids. They shouldn't take matters into their own hands."

"Enough!" McGonagall said, surprising Harry with her forcefulness. "What is done is done. But I will be informing Albus of this."

At the sound of the impromptu meeting breaking up, Fred and George hastily pulled their extendable ears back up, and the others did the same.

"Well, now we know what that was all about." George said.

"We do?" Ron asked.

"Come on, George. Let's leave the ignorant alone." The twins disapparated, leaving a spluttering Ron and Hermione.

"Those gits! How do they know what's going on?" Ron whined.

"They're not the only ones." Ginny smirked.

"You know something," Hermione deduced.

"Tell us," Ron commanded.

Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"What's in it for me?"

Ron looked flabbergasted for a moment. Then a sly look entered his eyes. "I do know what will happen if you don't tell me," he said, with a pointed look in Harry's direction.

Ginny flushed bright red but recovered her composure fairly soon.

"Fine," she snapped. "Diagon Alley is covered with newspaper articles about Harry's trial. Only it's not the Daily Prophet rubbish. I think they're papers that are printed in other countries. In any case, they've covered the trial pretty accurately. Everything from the reprimand Fudge received to Umbridge confessing. No one knows who did it, but from that argument, I'm guessing that some of the Order newbies decided to take matters into their own hands."

Hermione looked gobsmacked. "What do mean Diagon Alley is covered with newspapers?"

"Exactly that," Ginny replied, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and shooting a quick glance in Harry's direction. "There's at least one newspaper on every available wall surface."

Harry faked a look of shock. Ron looked disbelieving. "And what, the Ministry's just letting them stay there?"

"Apparently they've been charmed really well. Some Aurors have been spotted trying to pull them down, but they've had no luck. There's a rumor going around about some kind of super-special glue."

"How do you know this?" Harry asked.

Ginny bestowed a smile in his direction. "A friend of mine wrote to me a few days ago after his shopping visit to the alley."

Ron guffawed loudly. "Friend? Don't you mean boyfriend? Jeremy sure does write long detailed letters to you."

Then he saw the dangerous expression on his sister's face. "Reading my mail, were you?" she asked icily.

Ron gulped.

"I'm in a generous mood today, so you get a five second head start."

The words were barely out of her mouth, before Ron had fled downstairs. Ginny counted to five, determinedly not looking at Harry, before she took off after him.

"No running on the stairs!" Molly shouted.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. Hermione sighed. "I'd better make sure she doesn't kill him."

The party was on full swing and everyone was making merry. Tonks was in high spirits (literally, as she was drunk), and kept trying to drag Professor Lupin for a dance. Ron and Hermione were beaming with pride, accepting congratulations from various Order members. Mrs. Weasley too was in a particularly good mood as she soaked in the exuberant atmosphere.

Harry barely resisted the urge to scowl.

The prefects badge. A sign of rank. A sign of recognition. A sign of manipulation.

'Jeez,' thought Harry, wondering where that cheesy line had come from. 'What have Fred and George spiked my drink with?'

Sighing, Harry allowed his thoughts to drift. It was only after their letters from Hogwarts arrived, declaring Ron and Hermione as the new Gryffindor prefects, that he had finally accepted that his decision to keep his plans a secret was a correct one. Harry could understand why Hermione was selected, but Ron? Dean or even Neville would have been a better choice. It was a clear ploy on Dumbledore's part to subtly buy their favor.

The guilt still remained but at the end of the day, he understood the need to forge his own path. He couldn't afford to be dependent on them, or they on him. Both Ron and Hermione needed to grow up – Ron needed to understand the importance of hard work, and that in life, things weren't going to be handed to him, and Hermione needed to step out of her ideal world and start analyzing everyone, including figures of authority, objectively. She was already making a start, Harry knew, but he was still wary of her. Hermione had a tendency to believe she was always right, and she would go ahead and do things without consulting him. She never claimed superiority out loud, but her actions certainly betrayed her thoughts.

'Besides', Harry thought, 'I need to step out of her shadow, just as Ron needs to step out of mine.'

Careful not to reveal any of his thoughts on the matter, he heartily congratulated Ron and Hermione during the party. A part of him acknowledged that there had been a bit of jealousy involved in his feelings, but in the grander scheme of things, he realized, a Prefect's badge just didn't count.

A beam of purple light whizzed past the spot Harry had been occupying just moments earlier.

'Shit!' Harry thought, and scrambled back into the alley. Quickly firing two spells back in the same direction, Harry fled in the opposite direction. Harry glanced behind to see the effects of his spells. Sure enough, a dark forbidding fog was now obscuring the view. Anyone trying to break through that would hopefully not notice the second spell he had cast (the quicksand jinx) – before it was too late.

Seconds ticked by and there was no answering volley of spells.

Harry slowly crept along the wall of the building. Stopping at the edge, he anxiously peered around the corner. The street was deserted.

He was getting closer to the edge of the anti-apparation ward. He could sense that its perimeter was less than ten feet away. But to get there he needed to cut across the street.

Could he risk it?

Perhaps a distraction would do the trick. Raising his wand towards the sky, he cast a spell – a kind of spell that didn't produce a colored beam – and watched as a bunch of multi-colored balloons suddenly appeared. They floated around harmlessly for a moment and then - *pop* *pop* - one by one they began to burst. If he was lucky, this would cause his pursuer to shift his gaze upwards and allow Harry to make a break for it, undetected.

A quick check to make sure that his disillusionment charm had not yet dispelled, and then Harry was running full speed towards the edge of the ward.

Five feet more. Almost there – what the hell? A snitch!

Before Harry could realize what he was doing, his body reacted. His hand reached out and grabbed the snitch.

The next second he felt the unpleasant sensation of a portkey whirling him away. Panicking, he forgot all about the portkey landing techniques that had been drilled into his head.

He collapsed on the ground and heard a voice murmur, "Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"

His wand snatched from his grasp, bound by ropes, Harry felt all the horrible memories of the Triwizard Tournament overwhelm him.

Vaguely aware that it was his own voice crying out helplessly "No! No!", he struggled futilely against the bindings.

Through the haze of all the terror he could hear a voice calling out, "Harry! Snap out of it!"

The ropes fell away, and Harry realized that he was kneeling on the floor, being hugged so tightly by his godfather that he almost couldn't breathe.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I should have realized," Sirius was blabbering and Harry suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment engulf him.

"It's okay," he said, feebly trying to push Sirius away. "I was just being stupid."

Sirius leaned back, still looking worried. That only served to make Harry angrier, but he kept quiet.

He stood up and brushed some imaginary dust off his jeans, resolutely not meeting Sirius' eyes.

"Maybe, we should work on the scenario-training later," Sirius ventured.

"No!" Harry snapped. "I'm fine."

"All right, all right!" Sirius gave him a grin, but Harry could see that it was rather strained. "Let's work on where you went wrong. Care to tell me?"

Harry felt his face heat up. "The snitch," he whispered. "I grabbed it without thinking. And then I messed up the landing. I should have been alert the moment I realized what was happening."

Sirius looked at him, all traces of amusement – fake or not – had vanished. "Harry, better that this happened now, than in a real situation."

Sirius walked up to the switch panel and flicked off the holographic projector. The scene around them vanished.

"The portkey tactic was used quite often in the First War. Death Eaters would drop a few dozen of these all over the site of attack. Any victim who accidently brushed against them would instantly be transported to a Death Eater camp. They were then screened and those who were of some use were held for ransom or forced to use their knowledge to help Voldemort. The rest were killed and their bodies dumped in some public place in order to incite more panic."

"Professor Valentino told me about that. Only the Ministry is allowed to make portkeys but they have no way of detecting or preventing others from doing the same. He told me that the Ministry sometimes prosecuted the victims who escaped, if they were a Muggleborn or werewolf, on charges of using an illegal portkey. It sounds awful." Sirius' stories and his Magical Culture and History lessons had given Harry a better idea of what was to come. While isolated at Grimmauld Place it was sometimes easy to forget that there was a war brewing outside.

Sirius shrugged. "It was. Anyway, I know you'll be prepared the next time. Otherwise, I think you did a pretty good job. Nice touch with the balloons. You had me distracted for a second."

Harry nodded, but didn't feel any less dejected.

Sirius slung his arm around his shoulder. "Hey, cheer up. You lasted longer than you ever have before. It's a new record!"

"Whoopee," Harry said monotonously.

The corner of Sirius' mouth twitched for a moment, before he burst out laughing, thoroughly surprising Harry.

"You've got Lily's acid tongue," he said, still laughing.

Harry allowed a small smile to creep on his face. It was the first time anyone had compared him to his mother.

Amelia Bones was suffering from a severe headache. She had been involved in politics for over forty years, and even she hadn't managed to anticipate how difficult Fudge's impeachment would be. For all his stupidity and corruption, Fudge was an adept politician. It was what was making him so difficult to remove.

The revelation that Voldemort was indeed back, had spread rapidly among the higher social circles, but it had produced two different reactions. Some people were thoroughly appalled at Fudge's total disregard for security, and were crying themselves hoarse for his removal. However, there was a lack of consensus on what needed to be done after his removal, to counter the threat of Voldemort, and as a result this group was split into several different factions, each pushing for a new Minister from among their allies.

The other group of people had been Voldemort supporters in the First War, and had used a few hefty bribes to buy their way out of Azkaban. They had lined Fudge's pocket with significant sums of gold and had no desire to see their investment go down the drain. These were the people that had managed to so far block all of the Wizengamot's moves to investigate Fudge and had effectively made it difficult for Amelia to carry out raids on any of the high-rank Death Eaters.

Several leading reporters had shown up for Potter's farce of a trial, and scathing articles about the state of Magical Britain's government had appeared in numerous well-known newspapers across the world.

To the influential class, the snide comments from their counterparts in other countries were quite a shock. If there was one thing that was precious to the snobbish elite, it was their reputation. To find that in tatters because of a bungling Minister was more than some could bear. Still, those who followed Voldemort (whether their allegiance was a secret or not) knew that the Dark Lord's current agenda was to lie low for the present. Not that they understood his reasons for doing so, but who were they to question the Dark Lord? So disregarding their reservations, they continued to blindly support Fudge and use every bit of influence they had to protect the man. Fudge, the bumbling fool had no idea why he was enjoying a sudden swell of support, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

This entire political game would have normally continued in secret among the various factions of Britain's wizarding elite, as the middle class population of magical Britain had traditionally been isolated from the rest of the world.

Someone, however, had had a better idea. Within days of their publishing, all of the articles blowing the cover on Fudge's incompetence were circulating in large numbers among the general population.

Fudge had been furious about this, and had ordered a banning of all international newspapers and publications. He might as well have painted a "Guilty" sign on his forehead.

Within hours of his proclamation a roaring black market trade had sprung up, and all available Ministry officials by order of the Minister of Magic, were empowered with the right to conduct random raids to confiscate "illegal propaganda material".

Her Aurors, who had so far been conducting raids on several of the lower rung Death Eaters, suddenly found themselves pulled from duty, and forced to cart away reams and reams of newsprint.

Naturally this only further fanned curiosity about the whole business. The next thing everyone knew, Diagon Alley was covered with the very same newspapers that had been banned a few days ago.

Several Ministry officials had tried (or pretended to try) every spell they could think of to remove the offending papers, to no avail. The papers were firmly stuck with some kind of super strong glue, and attempting to cover them up with other papers didn't work as they had been charmed to turn the covering paper transparent.

An overzealous Ministry official by the name of Percy Weasley had finally suggested the passing of a law requiring all Diagon Alley shopkeepers to repaint their property. Fudge was impressed that the boy the problem had been solved without spending a sickle of Ministry funds, and had handed the boy a promotion. Percy Weasley was now Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.

The boy was over the moon after his new promotion, but Amelia knew the fool had no idea what lay in store from him. He had been promoted over several other candidates, and they would no doubt make life hell for him from now onwards. This, coupled with the fact that the Minister would not be able to retain his position for long, was bound to spell disaster for young Percy Weasley's career.

Amelia realized that she was getting sidetracked. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she pulled open a report from one of the Aurors who reported directly to her. After Potter's visit last week, it had become clear that the Ministry was ridden with corrupt bureaucrats and Amelia had no desire to fight both Voldemort and her own Auror corps. She had set about using Veritaserum on each of her subordinates. So far she had managed to cull out three marked supporters and eleven Voldemort sympathizers. The marked supporters were sacked and arrested, while the sympathizers were placed under close observation.

The easiest way of ensuring the loyalty of the Auror corps was getting them to take a loyalty oath but Amelia didn't know who to make them swear to. It was unethical to make the Aurors swear to herself, and she worried that making them swear to the Ministry would force them to obey the corrupt Minister's orders. So the only viable solution she had been able to come up with was getting every Auror to swear an oath not to follow the Dark Lord Voldemort. Then she recalled the memories Potter had shown her, and decided to add 'Tom Riddle' to that oath.

However, Amelia knew that getting the Aurors to swear to the oath would be far more difficult. The last time something like this had been attempted was in the Grindelwald war, when Anthony Finnegan had tried the same tactic. Several of his Aurors had taken offence to their loyalty being questioned and had protested. Loudly. Nearly a half the Auror force had gone on strike.

Amelia couldn't afford a repeat of the same situation. Fudge would tear her to pieces if the Aurors went on strike.

Amelia pondered the quandary for a few more moments before inspiration struck. She had just the right solution for her problem.

'Where is he?' Harry wondered impatiently as he wandered around the house trying to find his missing godfather.

Said godfather had not turned up for his Occlumency lesson. It was quite unlike Sirius to just leave Harry stranded like that without any note or warning, so Harry was presently trying to ignore the panic that was clawing at him.

Harry was about to give up and return to his room when he realized that he could check the wards to locate the Master of the House. After a bit of trial and error, Harry suddenly knew that Sirius was in a room on the first floor landing.

Harry raced down to the first floor and paused when he heard a choked sob emanating from the drawing room.

Peering in, he saw something that made his heart stop. Sirius was crouching in front of a very much alive James and Lily, with an extremely pained expression on his face.

For a second, Harry couldn't breathe. What the hell was happening?

Then, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him, Harry felt a rush of icy realization.

A Boggart!

Mrs. Weasley had mentioned sensing one in this very room, during the party.

Harry had left his generic wand in his room, for fear that Moody would be able to spot it with his magical eye. Not having any magical means to stop the Boggart, Harry did the only thing he could – he ran in front of Sirius in a bid to confuse the creature. This plan however, did not work as well as he had hoped.

The Boggart paused for a second, confused, and then flickered between the forms of a James and Lily, and a Dementor. Neither were very appealing to Harry at the moment, especially since his parents kept crying out in unison, "It's your fault. We're dead, and you're the one to blame."

And suddenly, Cedric was standing there, with a look of utter contempt on his face. Harry bit back a cry, and staggered against Sirius.

This seemed to rouse his godfather, for suddenly there was a shout, "Riddikulus."

A trembling Harry fell to the floor, trying to calm his racing heart. By the time he was able to gather his wits, his godfather had banished the Boggart.

The incident left both of them shaken, and for days Harry couldn't sleep without nightmares. Sirius was no better – Harry could see the dark rings under his eyes during their Occlumency lessons.

It was just around the time that Harry had finally started getting a full nights rest that Sirius reminded Harry about his planned medical check-up. No amount of whining would dissuade him, so Harry figured he would just have to grit his teeth and bear it.

To his surprise, the check-up was nothing like Madam Pomphrey's. Sirius started by murmuring a spell, while moving his wand from the top of Harry's head to his feet. Harry was shocked to see a 3D replica of his body, pouring out of Sirius' wand. Sirius then tapped the specter on its head and it dissolved into a single sheet of paper. Smiling at the shocked expression on his face, Sirius picked up the paper and dropped it in the box next to the computer. Harry gathered that the box (called 'transponder') allowed users to e-mail physical objects, but Sirius explained that only objects below a particular density could be mailed by this method, and only to people who had a similar transponder at their end.

The next day, Harry and Sirius were conferencing via the Magi-web with a healer from – well, Harry had no idea where exactly where he was from, except that he was somehow connected to Sirius' "contacts".

The healer's proficient attitude impressed Harry. He started off the call by taking an oath not to reveal any of Harry's medical details unless it was required for professional reasons.

"Do you have the diagnosis I sent?" The healer then asked. He looked exactly like one of the doctors in that Muggle serial that Aunt Petunia absolutely adored.

Harry nodded glancing at the computer screen which currently displayed a complete analysis of his physical body and magical core.

"There are signs of malnutrition and poorly healed injuries. Mr. Potter, whoever your guardians are, they've done a terrible job of taking care of you." The healer stated bluntly.

Sirius flinched. The healer shifted his suspicious gaze towards him.

Harry decided to take control of the conversation. "Healer…" he trailed off glancing at his medical record for the healer's name.

"Healer Wright," he began again. "Due to certain circumstances, I was living with my Muggle relatives. Yes, they were unfit guardians, but thankfully I'm now living with my godfather."

Healer Wright eyed him carefully for a few moments trying to detect any untruth in that statement. Satisfied he moved on to listing the medicines Harry would have to take.

"By Godric! How many more are you going to rattle out?" Sirius exclaimed when the man named yet another healing potion.

Healer Wright frowned. "You do want your godson healed, yes?"

Sirius looked contrite and nodded.

"Mr. Potter, you are required to take an unusually large number of potions. Therefore, I've had a Potion Master condense them into a few potions. I'm now sending those across now. The doses are listed in the record I sent you. For your record I've also listed the individual potions that I've prescribed, incase you feel the need to take a second opinion."

Harry opened the transponder and found a pouch with neatly labeled bottles.

"Do you see the one labeled 'Optocure'?" Healer Wright asked. "That's an eyesight correcting potion. A fairly recent invention, which to the best of my knowledge is available even in England. Perhaps it was the exorbitant price that stopped your school healer from mentioning the cure to you."

Harry and Sirius frowned but did not comment.

"Now there is something very important that I wish to discuss," Wright stopped to see if he had their attention and then continued, "The magical scan showed some kind of serious anomaly around your scar. I am unable to satisfactorily explain what exactly it is. I would need to be physically present to conduct some tests before I can determine the exact problem."

Harry spoke up. "My scar does react strangely at times. When I'm near Voldemort (the dark wizard who has tried to kill me several times) it flares up and hurts something fierce. Sometimes I can see or feel things that are in no way connected to my present state. I've been told that Voldemort transferred some of his powers to me on the night of his failed attack. Do you think that this is what is causing this – this anomaly?"

Healer Wright rested his hands on the table in front of him and seemed to ponder on that statement. "If what you are saying is true then this delves into magic I have little knowledge of. I would need to consult other specialists to investigate this. But as I said earlier, I would need to meet you face-to-face to do some tests."

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look, wondering how they were going to manage a meeting outside Grimmauld Place. Short bike rides were one thing, but a meeting with a healer would undoubtedly last at least an hour.

Then simultaneously a Marauder grin sprang on their faces.

"I think we'll manage that, Healer Wright. We'll be in touch to decide a convenient time and location," Harry said. Thanking the healer, he terminated the connection.

"C'mon" Sirius beckoned. "We've got a prank to plan."

Authors' note:

I had planned on having this chapter one week after I posted the previous one. But I wasn't happy with the way it had shaped up and ended up rewriting it. This chapter is the longest yet (~10,000 words) and I hope that it makes up for the long wait.

Harry starts to understand that Sirius isn't perfect, that he's still suffering from his stint in Azkaban. I'm guessing that the opening scene where Sirius clearly states his views on Remus is going to be controversial, but bear in mind that this is Sirius' pov. Remus is the way he is because of the circumstances that have affected his life.

Meanwhile, Harry's newly awakened eagerness to learn, coupled with his new found independence is a great attitude that he's adopted and it's going to help him in the war.

Politically, things are heating up as you can see from the Amelia Bones point of view.

As always, suggestions for future chapters are welcome. Thank you for your reviews.