On Boxing Day, Harry doesn't read his post. A few letters are brought in for him, and although he reads that morning's copy of the Owl Gazette, he leaves the five envelopes on his desk to be looked at later. He, Sirius and Remus sit around the living room, and Harry opens the presents he hadn't had time to open the day before before starting on thank you notes.

The most amusing of the gifts is from Ted Tonks - hastily added to Dromeda's parcel of a red dressing gown is a blue fly swat, tied with a ribbon. He laughs when he pulls it out, reading Andromeda's note that Ted had insisted he had wanted to add something to Harry's Christmas present, and had then forgotten to get anything. After Harry has finished with his thank you notes and Sirius has (almost) finished prancing up and down in the leather jacket Remus had bought him, they settle down in the living room again, eating at leftovers and snack foods.

"Do you want to include any of the secret passages on the map?" Remus asks as he sketches out a map of the ground floor of Hogwarts. The Marauder's Map lies open on the end table, but Remus doesn't so much as glance at it, easily drawing the rooms from memory and sketching in bird's eye views of the tables in the great hall.

"No," Harry says, shaking his head. "Otherwise they won't be secret, will they? Could we make it so that the map will take on stuff people write on it, though? Like, say they're using a particular classroom for a club or something..."

"Oh, yeah," Sirius says, scribbling it down on a piece of paper. "That's actually pretty easy - we needed to do that whenever we discovered something new." Working on the Hogwarts Guide takes up the majority of the day, and Harry enjoys it - Sirius and Remus explain the various spells used as they plan out the initial design, and they hide the awkwardness between them. Harry can see they're feeling uncertain in talking to each other, and although Remus feigns an easygoing demeanour, Sirius keeps shooting him uncertain glances, as if he feels Harry might break down in tears at any second.

By the late afternoon, Sirius' concern is really beginning to get on Harry's nerves, especially as he won't actually voice any questions. As Harry gets more and more irritated, Remus begins shooting glances at Sirius, and it's at that point that Harry gives up. "Let's keep working on this tomorrow," he says, standing and setting his quill aside. "I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Alright," Remus murmurs, giving a nod, and Sirius pats Harry on the shoulder as he goes.

Harry doesn't nap. He just kicks his door shut and wishes he'd finished packing - his turntable is on his dresser at Hogwarts, as well as most of the books he'd started reading. The only real entertainment he has is his chess set, Dudley's old radio and his broom, and he's not interested in any of those at the moment. He sighs, shaking his head slightly, and he goes over to the desk, flicking through the letters that had come for him that morning.

Most of them are unimportant - new owl order forms from Flourish and Blotts, a curt thank you note from Augusta Longbottom for the gloves he'd sent her for Christmas, a postcard from Takoda at the snake sanctuary... It's all fairly benign and uninteresting until he gets to the last envelope in the pile.

It's a heavy paper stock, and there's a deep green wax crest keeping it closed. He draws out the parchment inside, scanning the page, and he frowns, reading it again. And then again.

Mr H. J. Potter,

An issue has come up with your standing account at Gringotts Bank, and it cannot be resolved by post; please make your way with this letter to the bank as soon as possible. The issue has arisen from an existing subscription made by your mother, Lily Potter, to an outside service.

Clawbane
Bank Administrator
Gringotts Bank

Harry sighs, stepping out into the corridor. Remus and Sirius aren't in the living room, and so Harry steps into the kitchen. He stops short in the kitchen, staring at the two of them: Remus has his forehead pressed against the cabinet, and Sirius looks about ready to throw a plate. He guesses they've been arguing, but he doesn't want to bother with it - he just wants Sirius and Remus to sort this out amongst themselves, and hopefully Sirius will forget about Harry being... Not-gay.

"What time does Gringotts close?"

"It doesn't," Sirius says, carefully putting down the plate he'd been holding above his head. "Why?"

Harry passes the parchment to him, and Sirius reads the curt note before rolling his eyes and passing it to Remus. "Bloody goblins," Sirius mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why've they got to be so vague? Get your cloak, then, let's just go and find out what it is."

"Wasn't the ink on your Goblet of Fire entry goblin-made?" Remus asks, arching an eyebrow.

"Doesn't mean it was a Gringotts goblin," Harry says, but Sirius seems to be reconsidering his position.

"And there could be Death Eaters, or Lockhart and-"

"Except that they can't start a fight in Gringotts or they'll be kicked out," Harry says firmly, looking between the two of them. He shifts his weight from one of his feet to the other, shifting his hands in his sleeves: annoying as it is that Gringotts haven't outlined what exactly the issue is, it's got his mother's name on it, and he wants to know what this subscription is as soon as possible. After all, it's been fifteen years since she died, and there's never been a mention of subscriptions that Harry hadn't taken out himself on his bank statements. "Besides, you two'll come with me, right? So I'll be safe."

Remus and Sirius exchange a long look, and then Remus says, "Fine." With Remus' murmured word, Sirius relents, and he nods his head too.

It only takes Harry a few seconds to grab their cloaks.

---

"Excuse me," Harry says quietly, and the goblin behind the front desk peers down at him from his perch, arching one of his thick, grey eyebrows. Its gaze flits from Harry's face to those of Sirius and Remus: they're stood behind each of his shoulders like the three of them are part of a vanguard, and if Gringotts weren't utterly empty of anyone but six goblins, Harry would feel embarrassed. "I was sent a summons. There's an issue with my account?"

"Name?"

"Potter," Harry says. The goblin peers down at his books, and then gives a short nod of his chin, calling behind him for a goblin. They're lead off into an antechamber, down a corridor and into a small, modestly decorated office. Framed on a wall is a diploma written in a language Harry doesn't understand, but is fairly certain is Gobbledegook, and in the corner is a thick, leafy plant with pink flowers. The petals are thick and voluminous, and Harry's nose is filled with a sweet scent. He steps towards it, reaching out - the flowers seem to shift slightly with a draught from the door, and he wants to feel the smooth pinkness of the petals under his fingertips.

"You oughtn't touch that, Mr Potter," says a high, reedy voice. He's tall for a goblin, nearing four foot five, and he's wearing a thick, blond toupée that his ears stick out from under; instead of the armour-style tunics the goblins usually wear, he's wearing a pin-striped suit with silver buttons, and a golden chain betrays the watch in his inside pocket. "Beautiful flowers, but they've sharp teeth." Harry glances back to the petal he'd been close to brushing with his fingers, and the flower shifts again: its stamens shift like a dozen little tongues, and around the edge of the flower Harry sees a set of sharp, angular teeth display themselves.

Hurriedly, Harry withdraws his hand.

"My name is Clawbane, Mr Potter," he says as he comes into the room, giving nods to Sirius and Remus. He barely even looks at Harry. The goblin approaches his desk, plucking a sheaf of paper from its surface, and he scans the page on top. "Let's see... Regent Storage, in Nottingham... Locker 24... I believe the fee is twenty pounds sterling per month, though paid in a lump sum for the year is merely one hundred. Your mother had paid up to this point, but her standing retainer has now been used, and you must renew her subscription-"

"What are you talking about?" Harry interrupts, staring down at the little man in perplexity.

"Hmm?" The goblin asks. "The subscription-"

"Subscription to what?"

"Oh, the Muggle equivalent of a vault. A storage locker."

"And this was my mother's?" Harry asks. Clawbane blinks at him, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Yes," he says, as if it's obvious. "Now, the fee-"

"Why the Hell didn't you tell me this storage locker existed when I first came to see my vault?" Harry demands.

"It's a subscription to an outside service - a Muggle one, at that. Given that at the time it required no further investment by yourself, it was not included on your statements. Now-"

"But you knew it existed."

"It's a Muggle service. It has no bearing on your Gringotts account." Harry stares at the little goblin, his mouth open, but before he can argue any more, Sirius taps him on the shoulder and just shakes his head. Harry takes his godfather's silent advice, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Would you like to renew your subscription, Mr Potter, or-"

"We'll look at the locker's contents before making a decision," Remus says, and Clawbane gives a nod of his head, paging through the booklet in his hands. Harry sighs, but he listens as Sirius begins to ask legal questions Harry doesn't understand.

---

"You want to work on your Animagus transformation?" Sirius asks, leaning on Harry's doorframe. Remus had gone to Nottingham that morning, assuring that all Harry would need to bring is a copy of his birth certificate to check against Lily's name on their files, but the storage lockers weren't open on the weekends. Harry wishes it was Monday already.

"No," Harry murmurs. "I think I'll leave the Mandrake leaf until the summer. It'll give me more time to meditate and focus anyway, without extra stress. Given the tournament and all, you know."

"Yeah," Sirius murmurs, and he comes into the room, sitting on Harry's trunk. Harry is curled in his armchair, absently playing with the puzzle toy Lindon had sent him for Christmas and not really making any progress. Sirius watches him seriously, leaning forwards with his hands awkwardly folded between his knees, and then he says, "You know what I love you, Harry?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry says, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the puzzle box and meeting Sirius' eyes. Sirius looks like he hasn't been sleeping for the past few days - his eyes are dry and slightly shadowed, and he's been missing spots when shaving in the morning. Sirius normally cultivates an artful stubble, doing his best to look on the dignified side of rugged, but there are longer whiskers in amongst his beard, on his chin and his cheeks, that look out of place.

"You could shag a goblin, and I'd support you. Hell, you can go for some sort of threesome with a centaur and a vampire, and I'll still-"

"I get the picture," Harry says. "Though I don't think Blaise has anything on a centaur." Sirius sniggers, turning his head away with a grin on his face. "I don't want to lecture you or anything, Sirius. I just think you should maybe look at what the Muggles think about this stuff, you know? Elton John's gay."

"Elton John doesn't like men," Sirius says, scoffing, and Harry has to stop himself from laughing at his godfather's conviction.

"Yeah, Sirius, he really does," Harry says. "He divorced his wife a few years ago - he's with this bloke called David Furnish."

"Publicly?"

"Yeah." Sirius stares at him as if he's grown a secondary head. "Like I said, you should look at what the Muggles think. I mean, they're not like, totally accepting, but there's even talk of gay people being able to get married one day." Sirius puts his chin on his hands, looking deeply thoughtful, his dark brows furrowed, and Harry leans back in his seat. "Not that I'm gonna marry a bloke or anything. I just don't see why it'd be such a big deal if I wanted to." Sirius leans back, pressing his lips together, and he drums his fingers on his knees.

"Do you think Remus is, uh-" Sirius leans from one side to the other. "Gay?" Harry watches Sirius' face for a few moments.

"Uh," Harry says. "Wouldn't you know better than me?" Sirius' head shoots up, and he stares at Harry with a scandalized expression on his face. "I don't mean- because you're friends, you dirty-minded dickhead."

"Oh," Sirius says, giving a slow nod of his head, and he leans back, crossing his arms over his chest as he considers this. He hast the good grace to look mildly embarrassed. "Thought you were saying I'm moony over Moony." Harry groans, shaking his head. "I wouldn't have a problem with it, of course. If he was."

"Okay," Harry says. He feels out of his depth, talking about this - he knows about Muggle stuff, but he doesn't want to talk about Remus' sexuality and what it may or may not involve. In all honesty, Harry doesn't want to think about Remus or Sirius having sex, regardless of who it might be with, and especially not if it's going to be with each other. "We're going to the storage locker on Monday morning?" Sirius shifts, and then he gives a small nod of his head.

"Yeah. Yeah, kid, Monday morning. And then Thursday it's back to school." Harry breathes in, nodding his head.

"What do you think's in it?"

"I dunno," Sirius admits. "Lily never mentioned it, and nor did James. I don't know, Harry. Don't get your hopes up, okay? It might just be paperwork or something. That's probably all it is - Lily would have just paid it in advance so she didn't have to go through the palaver of paying a Muggle subscription from her Gringotts account." Harry can see Sirius isn't convinced. He fidgets slightly in his seat, looking like he's doing his best to hide his excitement. "Then again..."

"Then again?"

"Nothing," Sirius says, shaking his head. His lip twitches. "We'll find out on Monday." Harry frowns at him, furrowing his brow, but then he gives a nod of his head. It's just 'til Monday, after all - he only has to wait 'til Monday.