Sirius had been laughing for fully ten minutes. Harry had been scowling for precisely the same amount of time. Minerva, on the other hand, was trying to remain neutral, though the pull at the corners of her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes were a total giveaway.

Then there was Lily and James, who had brought them the source of this mirth and were trying to be supportive of their son, who was the subject of it.

"Potter Spotters! Really?" Harry moaned with a grimace. "How can that even be a thing?"

"Just wait till you're a bit older, and it becomes 'How to Marry Harry'," James teased. "Then you'll need to watch out. There is nothing quite so scary as a pack of vapid girls baying for a bit of flesh!"

"Pfft! Like you'd know anything about it!" Lily taunted with a grin and a wink. Sirius just howled out another peel of laughter as James screwed up his face at his wife.

Harry frowned harder still, and looked daggers at his Godfather. Once that was done, he turned his eyes back to the glossy magazine on the coffee table, that was still open to the centre page spread that was causing so much consternation. It was from Mizz Magic, the premier bi-weekly source of gossip, celebrity and fashion for the young witch about town. Whatever that meant.

And now, it would seem, they had taken an interest in all things Harry.

He was about to start school, so his sheltered life was about to come crashing down around his skinny shoulders. It was as if the press had been dying for this moment, and now they were just chomping at the bit to get a piece of him. The furore surrounding the Gringotts break-in had stirred both fears of Voldemort and interest in his vanquishers. And Harry was going to be thrust front and centre.

"But its not fair," Harry complained bitterly. "How can they be asking for pictures of me ... from the public? It's wrong, it's immoral ... it's not funny!"

Harry directed his ire at James and Sirius, who were finding his disconsolate moaning indescribably amusing. This, in turn, Harry found highly irritating. He turned to his mother for support.

"How can they do this to me?" Harry begged. "Cant you make it stop?"

"They aren't technically doing anything wrong," Lily soothed, though she sounded angry, too. "As long as the photos aren't indecent they are perfectly at liberty to print them."

"So I just have to put up with it?" Harry huffed. "Is that what you're saying? Great. That means everyone at Hogwarts could potentially be a part of the paparazzi!"

"Especially little ginger-haired super fans ... from what I hear!" James teased.

Harry glowered at Sirius. "You told him!"

"He had to!" James guffawed. "We're worried for your safety. You forget ... we've been through this before!"

Sirius stopped laughing at a stroke. He turned to James in deathly seriousness. "No ... you don't think ...

This time it was Lily who laughed. "Oh, yes, Sirius! Only we don't just think ... we know."

"But ... but ... it's impossible," Sirius argued. "The Weasley Curse ... they cant have daughters, can they?"

Harry frowned at his father. "That's not true, is it? They weren't cursed to not have daughters, surely?"

"That was always just a rumour," James explained. "But there is the curious fact that Ginevra Weasley was the first female born into the family in a long, long time."

"That's why the rest have to have so many boys," Lily went on. "If they want to keep the family line alive, they have to have enough heirs to find wives to bring in, because they cant produce any girls."

"Only now ... they have," James completed.

"And she seems quite keen on you," Minerva took over. "I was there, Harry, that day a fortnight ago at Flourish's. It was Ginevra who screamed out your name like a banshee. But I was following her. I overheard her mother mention that you had been seen on your own on Diagon Alley ... without your chaperone."

Six, accusing adult eyes turned on Sirius, who seemed to shrink slightly under their combined condemnation. Had he been in his dog form, Harry was sure he would have put his snout between his paws and whimpered pathetically. Harry was cheered by the image and grinned at the others.

"Anyway, I was concerned," Minerva continued. "Little Ginevra was so animated about the possibility of seeing you that she was like a ball of potential energy. One of my Muggleborn students once mentioned a game they have, on an electronic entertainment centre, - something called Sonic The Hedgehog - and the little character often swirls up in a ball of focused and crazed energy.

"Well, little Ginevra was just how I imagined that to be. And she wasn't alone. There was a little gaggle of Ethel Hallow's Magical Academy girls nearby, and they were eavesdropping and overheard ... and they were just as frenzied. One of them dropped that magazine in her hurry to try and get a look at you. I picked it up and thought your parents should know."

Harry looked down at the moving photo of himself in the magazine, taken on the day that he and Sirius had gone to Morganna Park to watch the birth of the first dragon born in captivity in over a century. The Daily Prophet had been full of dark portents, concerning the rise of black market dragon egg sellers, and Harry had made a joke that he hoped Hagrid never ran into one of them, or it would be like all his birthday wishes coming true at the same time.

The photo had been snapped with Harry in standard catalogue-model pose mid-laugh. Which still made Sirius laugh now whenever he looked at it. Though both Harry's quickly frowned at him when they caught him at it.

"So what do I do?" Harry asked, somewhat frantically. "You sound like I'm in danger from this."

"Well, if Ginevra is anything like Molly then she'll certainly be persistent," Sirius warned darkly. "You should be on your guard."

"What can I expect?" Harry pressed.

"Weekly fan mail, poetry, chocolates laced with love potions," James chuckled. He quirked a grin at Sirius. "What am I missing, mate?"

"Saucy photos and used underwear ... though maybe that wont happen for a few years," Sirius replied grimly.

"Eww, disgusting!" Harry retched. "What was the worst thing Molly sent you?"

Sirius looked at James. "Can I tell him?"

James looked at Lily. "Can he tell him?"

Lily looked at Harry. "Do you really want to know? It's pretty grim."

Harry took a steadying breath. "I think I should. I need to be prepared for this. Go on."

"Well, one time, Molly sent me some of her hair," Sirius began slowly. "She put it in a little bright pink envelope covered in love hearts and tied with a pretty little bow."

"Oh. That doesn't sound so bad," Harry returned breezily. "People send locks of hair all the time."

"No, no, kiddo, you're not understanding me," Sirius ploughed on anxiously. "She sent me a very specific type of hair ... one that didn't come from her head."

"Eww ... armpit hair! That's foul."

"No. It wasn't armpit hair."

"Facial hair?"

"No."

"Did she have hairy feet?"

"Actually ... I don't know. Maybe she did. But this hair wasn't from her feet, either."

"Then what other type is there?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Lily moved close and bent down next to her innocently confused son. "It's like this, sweetheart. When a person starts to get a bit older, usually into their teens, they start to grow hair in a very private place. You know ... down there."

Lily pointed south to emphasise her point. Harry's eyes went very wide.

"What ... you grow hair ... on your bits?"

James guffawed like a schoolboy and both Lily and Minerva looked pityingly at him. Then Lily turned back to her child.

"Yes, Harry, a little on those bits, especially for girls," she explained. "But mostly just above that part, a little below the waist."

"Okay," Harry mumbled, wondering what his bits would look like all lost in a mass of hair. If the stuff on his head was anything to go by, he'd have a job even finding it to use the loo. "But ... why did Molly Prewett send you that hair, Sirius?"

"Because its very private and personal ... and a bit rude," Sirius replied. "The sort of rude that older boys and girls often find fun."

"And did you find it fun?"

"No, I almost projectile vomited," Sirius replied lowly. James was heaving in his laughter next to him. "I have chronic Ginger-vitis, remember. Urgh ... I don't think I can drink any more of this tea. I need to gargle with Listerine just thinking about all this!"

"Okay, so be careful opening any unsolicited envelopes," Harry recited dutifully. "Any other advice?"

"Make friends fast," James suggested. "Try and form a sort of bubble around yourself. Your friends can help with that."

"I agree," Minerva nodded. "Little Ginevra wont be starting Hogwarts until next year, but we'd be foolishly naive to think there wont be others."

"And not just girls," Lily added seriously. "This generation will be teeming with the children of former Death Eaters. Some will be antagonistic, some may even see Harry as a new Dark Lord to rally around. Choose your friends wisely, Harry."

"I'm going to make friends with Muggleborns," Harry announced. "The Purebloods might leave me alone if they think I'm some sort of blood traitor."

"Try not to tar everyone with the same brush, Harry," Lily implored. "For every racial purist there are perfectly liberal Purebloods, too."

"Indeed there are, kiddo," Sirius reinforced. "I'm Pureblood, your old Dad, too. I know he's not the best role model in other areas, but he treats non-Purebloods fairly well. He sort of had to ... if he wanted a date with your Mum!"

"Shut up, Our Iron," James teased.

"Our what?" Harry queried.

"Our Iron," James explained. "Sirius' middle name is Orion -"

"- which I hate, by the way, as it was my father's name -" Sirius clarified.

"So we called him 'our old iron' or just 'our iron' to wind him up."

"Which it very much does," Sirius frowned.

"Okay, I'll keep an open mind," Harry promised. "Who were you friendly with?"

"My best friend was Alice Longbottom," Lily replied. "We grew inseparable after becoming friends during our maternity classes. We both got pregnant at the same time, you see, so her little boy should be starting school the same time as you. If he's anything like Alice you'd do well to get to know him."

"Longbottom," Harry nodded. "That's an easy name to remember."

"Just watch out for the Malfoys," James warned. "And keep the Weasleys at arms length. We don't want any of the brothers kidnapping you for your fangirl!"

"Shut up, Dad!" Harry cried, as James and Sirius fell about in chuckles again.

***

Some time later, Harry woke in a fit. He'd forgotten to let Hedwig out and she was barking at him from her cage. He hurried to his owl and opened the latch, offering the last of the gourmet owl treats to pacify her. She took the treats, nipped Harry's thumb sharply just to remind him of his role in this hierarchy, then hooted affectionately as she headed out to hunt.

Harry was about to flop back onto the bed, perhaps after finishing the latest comic book tale from Agent Cajun - they were just about to decode a Mayan codex, after all - when he noticed light seeping in from under his bedroom door. The clock said it was gone two in the morning. Who could have been stupid enough to leave the light on?

Then Harry heard muffled voices. Animated voices, at that.

He dropped down onto his belly to listen at the crack under the door. It was his Godfather's voice that he heard ... and he sounded troubled.

"What was the guy's name again? I didn't quite catch it."

"Polstead. Malcolm Polstead," James replied. His voice was grave and serious.

"I don't know him," Sirius replied. "And he told you ... what, exactly? What did he say about Riddle?"

Harry gasped loudly, which drew movement from the living room.

"Harry is asleep, isn't he?" Lily queried sternly. "I don't want him hearing this."

"I checked twice," Minerva confirmed. "That boy could sleep through a thunderstorm."

Harry held his hand to his mouth to muffle his breathing. A few pregnant moments passed, then his father spoke again.

"Polstead told us that he'd seen Riddle," James disclosed. "Not only that, but he'd spoken with him. Sirius ... you didn't kill Lord Voldemort ... Tom Riddle survived."

Harry could hear the deep intake of breath from his position on the floor.

"I think I always knew that he had," Sirius confessed. "Without seeing a body, I could never be sure. Not that the death of a body would defeat him."

"No, but a magic-less one has certainly held him at bay for a decade," Lily reminded him.

"But now he's found a way back, you think?" Sirius pressed. "And a way to reawaken his magic?"

"That's what our information suggests," James confirmed.

"And it concerns The Stone?" Sirius went on.

"Not just the Stone," Lily corrected. "Don't forget we knew what was going to happen when he attacked us ... I was bottle feeding Harry the Elixir just in case ... that was how he survived."

"And that's how Riddle thinks he's going to get back," Sirius surmised. "Well ... it was lucky Hagrid emptied Vault 713 when he did."

"Yes ... I just hope Dumbledore has a sound plan this time," James replied darkly. "I don't like being kept out of the loop."

"Leave Dumbledore to us," Minerva jumped in. "Just tell us what this Polstead character said."

"He told us he'd met with Riddle ... in another world," Lily explained. "To be honest, for our first assignment as Unspeakables this was pretty serious stuff. If we hadn't known about Sirius' world-hopping, we wouldn't have believed a word of it."

Harry felt his head spin with the deluge of information. It was a good job he was lying down, otherwise he might have fallen down. But James was speaking again.

"This Polstead was sent to us by a witch contact we have in the North," James was saying. "A Serafina Pekkala. Very strange character, one of those Northern shaman-types. Anyway, Polstead says Riddle is planning to return, using the help of something called the Magisterium."

"The Magisterium!" Sirius hissed. "Merlin forbid!"

"You know about them?" asked Lily.

"Yes, and it's all bad," Sirius confirmed. "They are religious zealots of the worst kind. The Witch Trials and Burnings? That would have been their doing."

Lily gasped angrily. "But ... how can they be here, too?"

"These religions cross worlds," Sirius clarified. "The gods at the top - if you can call them that - have the ability to span time, space and realities. Are they omnipotent beings? Aliens? Dead humans who have ascended to power in the afterlife? Who knows ... all that matters is that they exist ... and that they pose a genuine threat to freedom. Especially to our kind. Magic, or the occult, is the worst form of heresy to these people. We cannot take this lightly."

"And now it seems they are in league with Lord Voldemort," James sniped.

"Not all will be," Sirius corrected. "I know Serafina Pekkala. She's a fair and kind witch ... very beautiful, too ..."

Sirius' words tailed off pointedly.

"You didn't ... did you!" James suddenly cried, incredulously.

"Of course I did!" Sirius replied, smugly. "And half her clan too! They are still women, James. And very alluring ones, at that!"

"You are a pig," Lily spat fiercely. "How have you not been hunted down and killed by one of your conquests? From any world?"

Sirius laughed. "There is only one such woman I fear in such a capacity. And if she finds a way here we might as well recruit her. Trust me, even Lord Voldemort would quake in his boots in the face of Lyra Belacqua and her rampant rage!"

"Maybe we'll send you into the other world to get her," James suggested, and he was only half-joking. "We might need all the help we can get."

"One thing I need to get is some sleep," Sirius suddenly yawned. "That boy of yours tires me out. You didn't warn me about that."

"Well you were the one who introduced him to Quidditch before Hogwarts," James pointed out fairly. "You have no-one to blame but yourself, Paddy. Now, Minerva, speaking of Quidditch ... about this no first-years rule ..."

"Oh, that's all in hand," Minerva returned solemnly. "I've seen the boy fly ... he's better than Charlie Weasley. Lets just hope he has sharp hands ... that Snitch isn't going to catch itself next year, you know."