As had become his habit over the last few days with Arabella, Harry sat on his bed and pulled out the black leather photo album that his mother had made for Arabella and that she, in turn, had given him. Taking his wand from the bedside table, he tapped the cover once and whispered, "Walk with me," then watched as the picture of his parents, godparents and Severus Snape that was fixed in the center of the book faded and a gold inscription emerged.

Walk a Mile with Me

by Henry Van Dyke

O who will walk a mile with me

Along life's merry way?

A comrade blithe and full of glee,

Who dares to laugh out loud and free,

And let his frolic fancy play,

Like a happy child, through the flowers gay

That fill the field and fringe the way

Where he walks a mile with me.

And who will walk a mile with me

Along life's weary way?

A friend whose heart has eyes to see

The stars shine out o'er the darkening sea

And the quiet rest at the end o' the day,-

A friend who knows, and dares to say,

The brave, sweet words that cheer the way

Where he walks a mile with me.

With such a comrade, such a friend,

I fain would walk till journey's end,

Through summer sunshine, winter rain,

And then?- Farewell, we shall meet again!

Arabella –

Thank you for being our friend.

Lily & James

Harry smiled as he ran his hands over the words before opening the album and slowly flipping through the images. Arabella had told him many stories associated with the pictures and that, accompanied by his gradually returning memories, gave him a feeling of connection and belonging he had never really felt before.

A soft knock on the door drew his attention.

"Harry? Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Arabella entered the room and moved to sit across from him on the bed. She smiled slightly when she saw the album. "You know there are still a lot of stories I could tell you, although I think it would be better to let Sirius tell you some of them."

Harry looked at her for a moment, unsure if he should ask the one question that had been bothering him for the past several days. Finally, he decided he preferred to know.

"Why didn’t you take me?" He tried had to keep the sadness from his voice. He knew he had been unsuccessful, even before he saw the look of sorrow in her eyes.

"I tried, Harry. Fought the Ministry for you every step of the way, but with no support there wasn’t much I could do. Even Dumbledore thought you were better off with your aunt than with me." Arabella’s words were softly spoken but the sadness and lingering bitterness were obvious. She paused for a minute, fidgeting slightly.

"Actually, that’s part of the reason I wanted to talk to you before you went to sleep. I am worried that your memories aren’t returning as cohesively as I hoped. So there are some things I want to tell you before you start remembering them in parts or out of order. Promise to hear me out?"

Harry just nodded at her question, his trepidation growing. Arabella definitely seemed nervous and it was obvious to Harry that what ever she had to say was major. "Where to start?" she asked herself before directing a question to him, "Do you remember the stories I told you when you were little? About the special little boy?"

Harry just nodded.

"They weren’t just stories, Harry. They're based in the truth," she paused for a minute, "James and Lily were you Mum and Dad and they loved you very much – unconditionally. You were James’ baby boy, heart and soul, but James wasn’t your biological father, Harry. James knew it and it didn’t matter to him. Not before you were born and not for a moment after. Don’t ever doubt his love for you." Harry felt his pulse escalate and his eyes grow wide. Her words were bringing his world down around him and it terrified him.

Arabella extended her hand to him and he grasped it grateful for an anchor in the storm. He felt a warm calm spread though him through the empathic connection Arabella provided with skin-to-skin contact. "Who?" Harry managed to ask, terrified of the answer he had already begun to suspect.

"Severus," she replied simply, the word falling easily from her lips.

"No!" he exclaimed, "It can’t be. James is my dad! He loved me! Everyone says I look just like him!" Harry fought for control; his hand reflexively tightening around Arabella’s as he tried to calm himself. He didn’t want to start crying like a small child, but the knot growing in his chest was making it very difficult. "You told me my father loved me. Snape hates me! He can’t be my father." Harry finally bit out.

"Severus does not hate you, Harry. What he feels for you confuses and scares him. He has never been one to deal with vulnerability well. Yes, he is angry and bitter about the fact that we are both here and have been kept from him. Unfortunately those emotions have been directed toward you. He too had his memories suppressed. He didn’t remember that you are his son until just before you left Hogwarts this year. And don’t forget the other part of why he treats you like he has. There are Death Eaters out there who wanted to kill you even before Voldemort’s return." She paused for a moment reaching to take his free hand before continuing. "Sometimes, Harry, it’s easier to convince yourself you don’t care about someone than it is to watch a person you love suffer day in and day out and be never being able to help them or stop their pain. Can you understand that?"

Harry nodded, even though he wasn’t quite sure he did understand, or even if he wanted to at that moment. It was a hard thing for Harry to imagine, that his greasy git of a Potions Master, the one man who seemed to delight in tormenting him or looking for reasons to expel him could actually care about him; especially as something other than a student.

"He doesn’t just care about you, Harry. He loves you." She sighed and he figured she picked up on his disbelief.

Unconsciously, Harry pulled back from her but felt an unusual sense of loss when she pulled her hand away from him, eliminating any chance of accidental contact. Harry felt Arabella’s eyes watching him as if she was looking for a sign he understood. His eyes strayed to her hands clasped in her lap and he asked cautiously. "Is that how you know he loved me?"

"Loves you, Harry. And yes, partly it is how I know. However, it was very plain to see if you had the opportunity. Sometimes, when you were an infant, I would take you overnight to give James and Lily a chance to relax or unwind. Every time I woke up in the middle of the night I would find Sev sitting by your crib watching you sleep. You had him wrapped around your little finger, even when he knew you only as the son of his friend."

Harry continued to stare at her hands, afraid to look up, afraid to let her see the tears he fought to repress. He wasn’t at all sure why what she said affected him so deeply and he definitely wasn’t prepared to examine the reason too closely just yet. They sat in silence for a minute while Harry fought to control his emotions. Confusion and anger surged through him anew as a new question occurred to him.

"Then how can I look so much like James?" Harry asked, in a last ditch effort to deny the revelation.

"Are you sure you want to hear this now?"

Harry nodded. He didn’t think he could stand not knowing.

"When you were three months old, Lily and James brought you to Hogwarts where Severus and I worked. We told Severus that night that you were his son. You were left in our custody for several days while we worked on a plan to protect you and Severus. We all knew the only way to protect you from Voldemort was to make sure no one knew your true parentage. It broke Severus heart to have to let you go, but he would do anything to protect us."

Arabella paused again. He could feel her watching him and looked up to see both love and sadness in her eyes. "It took us about a week to finalize all the preparations. Lily perfected a series of charms that would make you remind people of James. James and Sirius used a series of transfigurations, changed your hair texture, skin tone and a few other details. Severus made two potions; one that would link your blood to James' and a second that would lock or extend the charms and transfigurations for several years. Both potions will start to wear off in the next few weeks."

Harry just sat there in a stunned silence. Slowly, a sense of panic and anger began to build in him. Everything about his life was a lie, even the person who stared back at him in the mirror each morning. "If Severus is my father, than why didn’t you use that to take me away from the Dursley’s?" His words were spat out, laced with his bitterness and uncertainty.

"I wish that had been possible, Harry. When you were first placed with the Dursley's I, and the rest of the wizarding world, believed Severus was dead. By the time I learned he was alive, a year had past. Even if I had written to Severus and told him the truth, Fudge was Minister of Magic and he would never have permitted us to have custody of you. You were already an icon and he would never have allowed you to be raised by a person he believed was a death eater."

Harry leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes wishing he were anybody but the Boy-Who-Lived. He wished that for once something would just work for him instead of against him. Harry felt the bed shift as Arabella leaned over and she kissed him on the forehead. The tingling warmth soothed him as much as her whispered words, "I am here if you need me."

Harry felt comforted and safe by Arabella’s gesture and regretted his outburst and the bitterness he had directed toward her just moments earlier. Bella, who had done more for him in the past few days than most others had done in a lifetime, definitely didn't deserve to be treated like that. She was the one figure that spanned his entire memory and each day made him more certain she would always be in his life.

"You should try and get some sleep." Arabella said softly as she stroked a few random hairs from his face.

"I don’t think I could," Harry replied, despondently. So many thoughts and conflicting emotions swirling within him he truly doubted he could sleep. He didn’t think he could relax enough or find any peace in his mind to turn off his anxiety long enough to sleep.

"Lay back and close your eyes." Arabella said and Harry followed the directions. She sat beside him on the bed and gently began to stroke his hair again. He felt a warm tingling, similar to what he had felt earlier begin. Arabella began to sing; her smooth, rich voice sent warmth flowing over his body.

"…Before you go to sleep

Say a little prayer

Every day in every way

It's getting better and better

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Out on the ocean sailing away

I can hardly wait

To see you come of age

But I guess we'll both just have to be patient

'Cause it's a long way to go

A hard row to hoe

Yes it's a long way to go

But in the meantime

Before you cross the street

Take my hand

Life is what happens to you

While you're busy making other plans …"

He felt his limbs grow heavy and realized she was easing him into a deep sleep. As he drifted into darkness, he heard another voice join hers. Something in him recognized Lily's sweet tones. He felt the world around him become still, his mind become calm as love and assurance wrapped around him like dark, warm cocoon until he surrendered to his need for sleep.

======================================

"I hate you!! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t make me go back there! I never want to see you again!" He shouted tearfully before running toward the front door. A gentle hand on his shoulder restrained him, forcing him to turn around and face the woman with long black hair and watery, pale blue eyes.

"Harry. I know you don’t understand. I wish there was a way for you to stay with me always. Remember what I told you before? About the funny old man who lives in the big castle? He says it is still too dangerous to take you home. Believe me, I would take you and go in a second if I could."

The pain, fear and anger he had felt just moments early ebbed away as she spoke in soft, fluid voice and gentle brushed away his tears. A warm, secure feeling settled over him and he stepped closer to her and into a waiting embrace.

"Can’t father make him let me come home?" he asked in a small feeble voice that was muffled against her shoulder.

"No, Harry-bean. Your father is as trapped by this as we are. If it was safe, nothing on earth would stop him from coming for you. He would do anything to keep us safe. He loves us very much."

"I love him, too, Bella. You’ll send him my letter, right?"

"Yes, Harry."

"You’re going to make me forget now, aren’t you?" He asked sadly, his arms tightening around the woman’s neck.

"You know I have to, but it won’t be permanent. You will remember everything someday, I promise."

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too, my Harry-bean. Now close your eyes and imagine its very dark, black like night. Now think of all the cats and pictures, pictures of cats, that’s a good boy."

He felt her separate herself from him, standing him straight by the door and say "Personatus Memoriter "

Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling extremely guilty for how he had treated Arabella and expecting to find himself in his old cupboard. It took him several minutes to realize he was actually back in his room at Arabella’s and that it was seven years later. Arabella had told him not to force the memories, just to let them come. So that is what Harry tried to do. He had recovered a number of memories in the last two days, many of the ones from his earliest years were hazy. But two nights ago, the memories suddenly became clearer. He distinctly remembered drawing pictures for Arabella, Sirius, and his mum, dad and father. Until last night and his talk with Arabella, he’d thought that the pictures for "dad" and "father" had been for the same person.

Even knowing that Severus was his father didn’t help ease his worries. In all her stories, Arabella had told him about his far-away father, who loved him more than his own life. Even when he didn’t consciously remember, there had been a part of him that clung to those stories as a lifeline, a dream that would someday come true. He couldn’t shake the fear that he was right and Arabella wrong, that Severus Snape most definitely didn’t love him. The man barely tolerated Harry’s presence!

Throwing the covers off, Harry climbed out of his bed. Putting on his robe, he secured his wand and headed down to the kitchen. He smiled as he slowly walked down the hall glancing at the pictures and portraits that lined the walls; he was glad the only similarities between Arabella's home and the Dursley's was the house floor plan. He was halfway to the stairs when he heard Arabella’s startled yelp and immediately ran down the stairs. He heard Arabella’s second exclamation midway down the stairs and it stopped him in his tracks.

"Sirius Black! You scared me half-to-death!! What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent us, he thought we might come in handy." Sirius chuckled in reply. "You’re looking decidedly better."

He heard Bella "humph" and what sounded like Sirius being smacked up the back of his head. "By us, I take it Remus is nearby?" Arabella asked. Harry wished he could have seen the exchange as started back down the stairs on the way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, he is checking the wards, he should be here in a minute. How’s Harry?" Sirius said, his voice was highly colored with concern at the last. "I hated to leave him after the tournament, Bell. He looked so lost and scared. And I …" Sirius stopped mid-sentence.

"And you what, Siri?" Harry heard Bella ask as he rounded the foot of the stairs. Her voice was gentle and caring. It was a voice Harry had become familiar with over the past few days, the "you can tell me anything" voice that seemed to compel you to spill your troubles at her feet.

"I was afraid I was going to lose him, that something was going to take him away again. Its just so …" Sirius paused again and Harry stopped, standing just on the other side of the kitchen door, ready to push it open. The level of emotion he had heard in the man’s voice unnerved him a bit, still not used to open affection directed toward him. There was also the fact that Sirius had seemed so eager to be fighting and working to bring down Voldemort that Harry hadn’t thought he really wanted to be doing anything else, much less taking care of him.

"Nothing is going to take him from you, Siri." Arabella responded in that same reassuring voice.

"Severus."

The way his godfather bit out the name sent a flare of alarm through him and he stepped back from the door. He dropped his quaking hands to his sides as a new fear emerged from the depths of Harry’s mind. Would Sirius’ hatred for Snape transfer to Harry now? Would Sirius stop caring for him now that he wasn’t a living extension of James Potter?

"The memory charm wore off." Arabella responded softly. "Does Remus know?"

"Yes. I was pretty upset when I woke up. I had to tell him."

Sirius voice was still bitter and just reinforced his fears. Harry tried to concentrate on his breathing, not wanting to cry now over the loss of a foolish daydream. In the last few days he had discovered more about his life and family than had dreamed, he found a place he felt he belonged and for one brief day he’d been allowed to believe in a childish dream that there was at least people out there who could and would take him away from at least one hellish aspect of his life and help protect him from the other. But all that crashed and burned with the realization that the one person with the power to give him his dream was the one person who wanted nothing to do with him and another may no longer want any part of him either.

"I am glad you told him, he deserves to know. You know it doesn’t change anything, Siri. He’s still Harry, he’s still your godson and he still needs you."

Arabella’s voice was soft, calming and reassuring, drifting through the door, but Harry barely registered it.

"Eavesdropping? Shame on you Harry!"

Startled, Harry jumped backward, his body smacking against the wall with a thud, wand drawn to face the person who had called his name. Standing before him was the smiling, if slightly ragged figure of Remus Lupin. Taking a deep breath, Harry lowered his wand and tried to calm himself. He heard footsteps and the door behind him swing open and knew without looking that Sirius and Arabella were behind him.

"Morning, Harry!" Arabella said. He diverted his eyes as she turned him to face her and kissed him gently on the cheek in greeting. Harry noticed her smile turn to a frown from the corner of his eye. In a soft voice, she whispered to him, "what’s wrong?"

"Nothing. I just heard you and Sirius." Harry said, still avoiding looking at her, even though he knew he wasn’t hiding anything from her as she read his emotions when she touched him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod slightly before moving past him to greet Remus. Looking up, Harry suddenly found himself face to face with his godfather.

"Good Morning, Sirius."

"Good Morning, Harry. Sleep well?" Sirius said jovially, acting as if everything was perfectly normal.

"Yes. Well, except for the dream about telling Arabella I hate her and that she’s a mean liar." Harry responded as he took his usual seat at the table and fiddled with the napkin instead of looking Sirius in the eye.

"No worries, Harry. You were only seven, after all. Besides, the look on Dumbledore’s face when he showed up that night to help repair some of the damage your accidental magic did to the wards was quite priceless." Arabella commented as she re-entered the kitchen and started to prepare breakfast. Harry immediately got up and began setting the table. As he worked, Harry noticed both Sirius and Remus studying Arabella carefully as she placed juice on the table for everyone. He turned toward her, curious to see what caused their obvious concern. Instead of the old woman he was expecting, he saw a tallish woman with long dark hair.

"Arabella?" he asked, shocked and amazed at the transformation.

"Different, huh?" she asked, smiling almost laughing.

Harry nodded, not sure what else to say.

"So, what do you think?" She asked, her teasing expression for a moment reminding him of Sirius.

Looking at her closely, Harry decided she was pretty enough, but not in a usual way. He couldn’t tell if her hair was black or just dark brown; it seemed to depend on how the light hit it. She had an oval face with well-proportioned features, high cheekbones and full lips. Her nose was straight, didn’t hook or turn up, but it had a small bump mid-way down. She was tall and skinny, too skinny in Harry’s opinion. She smiled and laughed at his obvious inspection and that was when he decided she was truly pretty. The way her features expressed her joy was amazing; it made Harry want to smile and laugh with her. Everything about her seemed to light up and her features softened.

"Are you two, umm, related?" Harry asked sheepishly as he continuing to set the table.

Of all the things Harry would have expected as an answer, it was not Remus’ chuckle-induced coughing, or Bella’s wide eyes and quirky smile.

"Forget to tell our godson something, Bell?" Sirius asked.

"Umm, guess so!" Arabella replied, barely containing her own laugh.

Before Arabella could continue, a tapping at the window drew Harry’s attention. He smiled at the sight of a very small, hyperactive owl, all thoughts of his previous question vanishing for the moment. Opening the window, he let the bouncing-ball of an owl into the room and quickly untied the letter attached to his leg before letting the small bird off, knowing it would find Hedwig’s perch, food and water on its own.

Quickly taking his seat at the table, he opened the letter and read,

Dear Harry,

How are you? Hope the muggles are treating you okay. Listen, I asked Mum about Arabella Figg, thinking she might know who she is and all. She got kind of upset at the name, told me to leave well enough alone. Then walked off mumbling about letting the dead rest and only causing more pain. But since you said Dumbledore wanted Sirius to find her, I am figuring there is more to what happened than Mum knew, so I did some investigating. Turns out she went to school with your parents and the Marauders. According to one of Mum’s yearbooks, she’s actually Arabella Figg Black, as in the twin sister of Sirius Black! Can you believe it?

The really, creepy thing, though, is the picture of her and Snape in Bill’s yearbook from first year. There is a side caption that just identifies her as the professor’s late wife! Yuck! I can’t believe anyone would marry the greasy git! I think Bill knew her, too, cause he got really upset when he found me looking for information about her.

Oh, yeah, Bill’s not going back to Egypt. I overheard him telling to Mum and Dad last night.

Write back so I know you're okay!

Ron

Harry read the letter twice before placing it on the table, looking back and forth between Arabella and Sirius. He did his best to mask his expression and watched as Arabella and Sirius both began to look concerned.

"Is Ron alright? What does he say?" Sirius asked, reaching for the letter. Remus, however, grabbed it first.

Arabella came around the table to stand beside him. Harry looked up at her with as serious an expression as he could muster. "I am so sorry, Arabella," he said. He could see Remus trying to keep a straight face.

"Sorry? Harry, for what?" she asked, her voice growing more concerned.

"That you had to grow up with numbskull over there." Harry said gesturing to Sirius.

Harry smiled as he watched Bella’s concern crumble into laughter. He laughed himself as she leaned down to hug him and ruffled his hair. "So what else does that letter tell you?" She asked as she moved over to the stove to check on the breakfast that was magically cooking itself.

"Not much," Harry replied, "just that some poor woman had the misfortune to marry our greasy git of a Potions Master." His remarks earned a snort from both Sirius and Remus. Harry realized that both, however, noticed the subtle discomfort in his voice and individually offered him a supportive look.

Sirius leaned over toward him, whispering, "Don’t worry, Harry. The greasy hair won’t last two seconds around Arabella. Give her a few weeks and she’ll have him wrapped around her little finger again. I can guarantee he’ll be sporting de-greased hair and actual color in his wardrobe. Just you wait. It’s really quite humorous."

"Just you wait, Sirius Black," Bella said, throwing looks at Sirius and Remus. "You two, upstairs and to the showers. Harry, can you get the clean clothes for them from the laundry and then show them where they can clean up?"

Harry quickly rose to do her bidding, grabbing the bags of clothes he had helped prepare, as well as some clean towels. He led both of Arabella’s victims from the kitchen and up the stairs, hearing them grumbling as the walked behind him. "Really, guys, its not that bad. Bella’s got good taste and she thought of everything, including underwear."

He laughed at the groan of embarrassment that issued from both men. Harry realized then that maybe he hadn’t lost his dream, after all. Sirius wasn’t showing any signs that he would reject him; actually it was the opposite. And there was that teasing display in the kitchen. Harry didn’t remember ever feeling quite so comfortable; it reminded him of how he'd often witnessed the Weasley's behave. For the first time, Harry felt like he had a home, a family of his own and the future didn’t seem quite so scary. He just hoped Voldemort stayed quiet for the rest of the summer.