Your wish is granted, dear Harry. May you be happy with your new family.

Magic swirled in the air around the sleeping boy, and the protective uncle who was curled up on his bed. There was just one thing left for her to do. A burst of blinding light traveled from the star sticker stuck in a dark, dusty corner of a cupboard that lie beneath the stairs belonging to the house of an ordinary Muggle family, to Harry. The light played about his face like a swarm of fireflies, and with another whisper of wind that gave way to thought, the light settled upon him.

A thin, yet hearty thread in life’s great tapestry had been carefully plucked out, and then rewoven, and twined around that of a thread which was three cords strong. And like that, while he slept, Harry Potter’s life was rewritten, as were the lives of Severus Snape, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin.

The Dursleys never once noticed the hole in their own tapestry. And the star sticker, now that her work was done -- Harry’s memories refashioned; his life reimagined -- grew dark, and the glue lost its power, but she did not fall, to be left forever alone in the dark recesses of the Dursley cupboard. Instead, she was reborn the instant her last burst of light left her, and woke to find herself changed. Her body was soft and plush, and she was clutched tightly to the chest of a sleeping Harry Potter.

Smiling, Harry turned in his sleep, and held his special toy star to his chest. A gift from his mother, he’d had it forever.

It is finished. Magic swept through the room, ruffling the hair on Harry’s forehead as though it was kissing him goodbye.

Sirius’ ears perked at the noise, and he lifted his head, looking around the room for the source of the disturbance. There had been just the hint of a woman’s voice. It had sounded like Lily, and for a second, Sirius expected to see her standing there in Harry’s room, somehow alive and well. Finding no one there, and dismissing the entire thing as a dream brought about by Harry’s odd behavior the day before, he sighed and settled his head on his front paws. Licking his lips, he smiled as he felt Harry’s fingers in his fur, and he watched the boy’s chest rise and fall until he could no longer keep his eyelids open, and he fell asleep.

The next morning, Harry woke and laughed at the sight of his uncle curled up in a ball at his feet. His fingers were still entwined in the dog’s fur, and Harry gently untangled them. He’d had the strangest dream. Something about an aunt and an uncle who hated him and treated him like a Malfoy house elf. Harry shivered as he remembered the nightmare, but he pushed it out of his mind, and prepared to wake his uncle with a tickle.

Harry hoped that, later, he could help Uncle Severus brew potions, and that Uncle Remus would tell him another story that he’d written about werewolves, and that Uncle Sirius would let him pass him tools while he tinkered on his motorcycle. Maybe Harry could even firecall Ron, and set up a trip to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, or Quality Quidditch Supplies. It was just the start of summer, after all, and he and Ron had a lot of what his Uncle Severus liked to call, ‘mayhem’, to get up to.

With all of this in mind, Harry set about to wake his uncle so that he could get a jumpstart on his day. Fingers poised to strike, and a mischievous grin on his face, Harry caught his Uncle Severus’ eye as the man made to pass by his room in the hallway. Arching an eyebrow, Severus leaned against Harry’s doorjamb, and turned to watch, a grin that nearly matched Harry’s tugging at his lips.

Taking that as tacit permission to do his worst, Harry launched a tickle attack on Sirius that had the dog howling and yipping, and brought tears of mirth to Severus’ eyes that he wiped away with the edge of a folded up handkerchief. Severus was nearly doubled over with laughter at the dog’s expense when Sirius transfigured back into his wizard form and promptly fell on his butt as he tried to get away from Harry’s fingers.

“Well, don’t just stand there, help a man up, would you?” Sirius held his hands out to Severus who laughed and shook his head.

“I could’ve told you that would happen,” Severus said. “But, where would the fun have been in that? Harry, when you’re finished torturing your uncle, I believe that breakfast is ready. I trust that you can find the way yourself?” There was just a small note of concern, as though Severus was really worried that Harry didn’t know the way down to the kitchens. Frowning, Harry nodded, wondering why his uncle had asked him that. He’d been finding his way down to the kitchen by himself since he was five years old, and he was almost eight now.

The look of relief that crossed his uncles’ faces did not go unnoticed by Harry, but he chalked it up to them being silly, and rolled his eyes. Taking that as his cue to leave so that Harry could get ready for breakfast, Severus pushed away from the door, and helped Sirius to his feet, acting like it was the last thing that he wanted to do.