Harry Potter and the Unfulfilled Prophecy

Chapter One: O.W.L.'s, Letters, and Owls, Oh My!

Under the roof of number four Privet Drive, only one soul was awake. It belonged to Harry Potter, a fifteen-year-old boy quite unassuming in appearance with wild black hair that had the tendency to never lie flat. He had just been awakened by the startling conclusion of the recurring nightmare of his godfather's (Sirius Black) death. He grabbed his round-framed glasses that lay just within reach on the lamp stand beside his bed and hastily put them on. He kept hoping that if he sat up fast enough, he might just see Sirius standing there, ready to tell him his dream was just a dream. Harry's dazzling green eyes could be seen darting about the room searching desperately for something that was never to be seen. All he could hear was his Uncle Vernon's snores echoing throughout the house accompanied by the incoherent mumblings of his Aunt Petunia.

Harry was disappointed, yet still alert for anything out of the ordinary (Snuffles for instance, the shaggy black dog who was Sirius's animagus form). He reasoned that, perhaps, if he got a drink of water, he could attempt to clear his mind. Hesitating, he pulled himself out of bed and shuffled across the room. He tried to make his way downstairs as noiselessly as he could, automatically skipping the stairs that he knew would creak mercilessly. Unfortunately, he forgot about the very last step and a creak resounded throughout the house. He could hear his uncle's snoring falter and then cease altogether. Harry held his breath, waiting for the bellow that was sure to come. However, to his surprised relief, it never came.

Walking across the kitchen and filling a cup with water, Harry noticed a pair of cat-like eyes staring at him from the window across the room. He then realized that the eyes belonged to Mr. Tibbles, Mrs. Figg's cat. The cat scampered off down the street, undoubtedly off to report something to his owner. For all of Harry's life up until last summer, Mrs. Figg had been merely an irritating old muggle who lived down the street. Harry then found out, quite by mistake, that she was a Squib, someone born into a wizarding family, but is unable to successfully complete spells. Her orders had been to keep an undercover eye on Harry. Since then, Harry had visited her a few times and found her to be quite an agreeable woman.

Finishing off his water, Harry set off for his room again. After creeping silently up the stairs, he entered his room and shut the door quietly. He dragged his feet across the floor and collapsed onto his bed causing the springs to creak loudly. Lying on his back in frustration and disappointment, Harry wondered why he got his hopes up every night only to have them dashed the moment he opened his eyes. He felt he was getting himself worked up, and he remembered he was supposed to "clear his mind of all thoughts and emotions". It was part of his practice of Occlumency and it was not mere summer homework. This was a crucial exercise he was to do before falling asleep because that is when his mind was most vulnerable to penetration. However, tonight, Harry didn't care if he was getting worked up. He had every right to be angry. Nothing seemed to be going his way any more. And so he fell softly off to sleep, but not a dreamless one...

* * * * * * * * * *

Harry found himself in Dumbledore's office with the sun outside just starting to spread soft rays across the grounds. Dumbledore put the tip of his wand to his head and began pulling fine gossamer threads out and placing them in his pensieve. He then tapped the contents with his wand. A figure of Harry's Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, appeared in front of him. She spoke while in a trance-like state. The familiar words rang through his head...

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

He was rudely awakened early the next morning by an insistent owl tapping on his window. This incessant sound was further compacted by the searing pain in Harry's scar. Harry also noticed that he had a peculiar, happy feeling in the pit of his stomach. This happened to him all the time last year and he soon found out that, with a connection formed many years ago, he was able to feel Lord Voldemort's extreme moods, whether he was happy or extremely angry. Voldemort had used their connection to lie to Harry last year, so he shrugged off any uneasy thoughts and figured he could mention it to someone later. With the pain in his scar slowly ebbing away, he again realized that the Daily Prophet owl was still rapping at the window. He staggered across the room without his glasses on. With his eyes inches away from the wizard money in his hand, Harry was just able to distinguish one bronze Knut. He then placed it in the pouch attached to the owl's leg and pulled out the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. This newspaper was his lifeline to the wizarding community. By reading the pages cover to cover, he tried to discern whether Lord Voldemort had attempted to gain power or followers.

Nothing of much interest had shown itself in the paper that morning. Harry was pleased, however, to see that Fred and George Weasley's joke shop, "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes", was well advertised. Apparently their products were selling well enough that they were able to pay for advertisement space in the most widely read newspaper of the magical world. They had told Harry a few weeks ago that business was booming. He was happy for them... they deserved to have something go right for them for once. Although Mrs. Weasley had been fuming when she first heard of what happened, she warmed up to the idea when she realized how well they were doing.

Seeing the Weasley name reminded Harry of Ron Weasley, Fred and George's younger brother, and one of Harry's best friends. He was looking forward to the day when he could leave Privet Drive for the summer and be reunited with Ron and his other best friend, Hermione Granger. Reluctantly bringing himself back to the reality of his sunlit room at number four, Harry realized that neither Ron nor Hermione had written him all summer. He was a little put off by this, but it seemed to happen to him every summer, so he decided to contact the two of them himself. Grabbing a quill, he scribbled small notes to Ron and Hermione and sent his snowy owl, Hedwig, off to find them... wherever they were.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A week later, Harry was woken up by more than just the Daily Prophet owl. Hedwig had returned with several notes attached to her leg and a school owl had joined in the window-pecking festivities. Harry opened the window and grabbed money for the Daily Prophet owl first to diminish the owl number to a manageable level. Throwing the newspaper on his bed, Harry then reached for the official-looking letter attached to the leg of the school's barn owl. Finally, only Hedwig remained in Harry's bedroom. Relieving Hedwig of her several notes, Harry gathered his morning deliveries and lay down on his bed. Along with notes from Ron and Hermione, there was also a letter that appeared to be from someone in the Order of the Phoenix. He decided to open this one first. It read:

Harry,

We just wanted to write you quickly to let you know when we would be collecting you for the summer. I'll be showing up at number four at twelve o'clock in the afternoon on August first. You'll be coming to the familiar place just as last time. We'll be taking a portkey so there's no need for your Firebolt. Hope this summer has been bearable, even with Sirius... gone. I miss him just like you do, Harry. Remember, he was my best friend. We'll talk more when you get here. There are a lot of things to attend to. Hang in there until then.

See you soon,

Remus

Harry's heart beat a little more easily now that he knew the day he would be able to leave this place. It was only a few weeks away, but it was a few weeks too many, Harry thought, to be away from his friends. And what exactly had Lupin meant by, "there are a lot of things to attend to"? Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough. He then picked up the note from Hermione:

Harry! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to contact you before now. I've been spending as much time as I can with my mother and father since I haven't seen them for an entire year. I'm going to be arriving at you-know-where in about a week or so. Can't wait until you get there, too. But, most importantly, have you gotten your O.W.L.'s yet?! I just got mine back today and I am so relieved. I got all "O's". I can't believe it! I thought for sure I'd get an "E" in Ancient Runes. They must have gone easy on me. I'm so happy, though! Anyway, I can't wait for all of us to be together again. We'll be waiting for you.

Always,

Hermione

Harry was glad to know that his friends hadn't forgotten him. He was completely unsurprised at Hermione's O.W.L.'s scores and wondered what Ron had received. Aside from the letter from Hogwarts, which he was now sure held his O.W.L.'s results, Ron's was the only note left. He decided to put off the inevitable a little longer and opened up Ron's hastily scribbled message:

Hey Harry. I've been here at, well, you know. The whole family's been up here the whole summer... excluding Percy. He apologized to the family, but, well, mum and dad decided that they rather liked only having to pay for Ginny and me (Fred and George are self-sufficient now). So we're on talking terms with him, but it's still not the same. Anyway, I've been busy helping to clean up this place some more; it's actually livable, I think. We managed to board up most of Mrs. Black's portrait so she doesn't scream nearly as much now. Anyway, about the O.W.L.'s scores... I got an "O" in Defense and History (don't know how I managed the latter one, I swear I guessed on all but a few). I got a couple "E's", but I got an "A" in Potions and in Divination. I kind of expected the Divination one, though. I told you about the whole crystal ball disaster, but I guess I must have done something right because I passed. I thought I would have gotten a "P" in Potions, but I guess more actually sunk in than I thought. I'm just ecstatic that I passed all my classes. I'm sort of expecting another letter to come and say that they sent me the wrong owl. Anyway, Harry, I hope you did well. See you in a couple weeks.

Ron

Harry was apprehensive in opening his last letter. He was halfway tempted not to even open it. He thought better of this, however, when he imagined Hermione lecturing him on the importance of knowing his O.W.L.'s results. Holding his breath, he slit open the envelope to reveal the neatly written words:

Mr. Harry James Potter

Number Four Privet Drive

O.W.L. Assessment Results:

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Potions: PA

Divination: A

History of Magic: A

Herbology: O

Transfiguration: E

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Astronomy: E

Charms: E

Harry was confused by the marking on his Potions O.W.L. He had always thought that there were only one-letter grades. However, he found a small note at the bottom of the letter that read:

Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have successfully passed all of your classes. The grade you received on your Potions test stands for, "Poorly Acceptable". We do not hand out many of those grades, so consider yourself extremely lucky.

Sincerely,

Griselda Marchbanks

Harry was extremely relieved to read that note. He was also ecstatic when it finally sunk in that he had passed all of his classes. After a bit of silent celebration, Harry decided to leisurely peruse the pages of the Daily Prophet and, once again, nothing of much interest had shown itself. He suddenly felt exhausted, not only because it was 5:30 in the morning, but because all of his tension had been released. He had finally heard from his friends and he had found out his O.W.L.'s results. He peacefully dropped off to sleep and did not stir again until late morning.

Chapter Two: Dreams and Gifts

The weeks leading up to Harry's departure from Privet Drive were almost unbearable. True, the Dursley's weren't treating him nearly as bad this summer as they had every one preceding it. The Order of the Phoenix, the front-line of defense against Lord Voldemort, had threatened the Dursley's that if Harry didn't keep up with contented letters every few days, one of them would show up at their front door. This horrified Vernon and Petunia to the point that they actually gave into the threat. Harry was allowed to watch television as he pleased and go on walks around the neighborhood, and much to his cousin's dismay, he was even allowed to stay out past Dudley's curfew. Harry held up his part of the bargain and obliged to write small letters to the Order saying that the Dursley's weren't being too terrible to him.

Harry was a bit perturbed by the fact that none of his friends had even mentioned his impending birthday in their letters. As the weeks passed and no other post came from those at Grimmauld Place, Harry grew extremely frustrated. His friends had never actually forgotten his birthday before. The hopeful part of Harry figured that everyone was still busy trying to make the headquarters clean. Harry's pessimistic side told him that his friends had forgotten about him and didn't care that he would soon be sixteen. Both halves of Harry fought with each other until his birthday, July 31st, finally arrived. At that point, the rather pessimistic side of Harry won out. He was now sixteen and had one day left until Lupin came to collect him from Privet.

Harry's birthday passed slowly and the Dursley's had shown no sign whatsoever that they had remembered. Hedwig had been his only company all day. He had kept himself occupied by reading a Quidditch book that Hermione had gotten him for a previous birthday. However, by that evening, Harry was in an extremely bad mood. Somehow that night, though, he managed to try and clear his mind so he wouldn't have any strange dreams. The last thing he needed was to have nightmares again.

Harry woke up early the next morning and received his last edition of the Daily Prophet. When he paid the owl, he told it that it would no longer need to come to Privet Drive any more that summer. The owl hooted in understanding and flew out the window. Harry passed the remaining time until Professor Lupin arrived by reading the newspaper and packing his trunk. Eleven fifty-five rolled around and Harry heard the doorbell ring. He went downstairs to meet Lupin, but found Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon staring in horror at the open front door. Aunt Petunia seemed to find her words first,

"B-but Harry's told us he's been k-keeping up with his letters t-to you. He's been treated v-very well this summer. Yes, v-very well," she managed to sputter.

"He's been able to come and go as he p-pleases. He's even been allowed to watch the TV if he wishes to. We ha-haven't done anything bad to him." said Uncle Vernon, managing to twitch only on the occasional word.

"No, you don't understand," said Professor Lupin, "I'm just here to pick up Harry. We're taking him away for the summer."

"Oh," Aunt Petunia said briskly, "why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"You didn't exactly give me a chance, did you miss?" Lupin asked rhetorically.

"Well," said Uncle Vernon, "no need to put off the joyous moment. HARRY, get down here... er, PLEASE!"

"I'm all packed professor," said Harry, who was still in a somewhat sour mood, "It's just upstairs if you want to come help me with it."

"Right behind you, Harry," Lupin said, walking inside the house and climbing the

stairs quickly.

When Lupin walked into Harry's room, he saw everything Harry needed neatly put together in the middle of the room. Harry stood, waiting for Lupin to say something, but awkwardly, he never did.

"Right, well then," said Harry, "seeing as I can't use magic and all, I was kind of hoping you could help me with my stuff."

"Of course," Lupin said, "Locomotor Trunk." With that, Harry's trunk levitated a few inches off the ground and Lupin began directing it down the stairs. Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and started following Lupin down the stairs. Once they reached the bottom, Lupin pulled out the portkey, a replica of a cellular phone.

"Okay, then," he said, "we've got a minute left Harry. I suggest you say your goodbyes."

"Bye!" Harry yelled.

A grunted, "G'bye" from Uncle Vernon was all he got. Harry wasn't bothered by this, though. He was happy to be leaving, although his anger almost outweighed the happiness.

"Alright, Harry. Hang onto the portkey... three - two - one." With that, Harry felt the all too familiar jerk behind his navel. The Dursley's front hallway became a swirl of colors before it blended into the dark surroundings of number twelve Grimmauld Place, the former home of Sirius Black.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The hallway they had just appeared in was now empty except for Harry, Professor Lupin, and Harry's belongings.

"Well," said Lupin, "I don't suppose you've had lunch yet, have you? C'mon, let's get you something to eat." With that, Harry and Professor Lupin made their way to the kitchen. Harry reached the door first and pushed it open. He was surprised to see absolutely nothing. The lights weren't even on. Harry blankly reached for the light switch, found it, and flipped it on.

"SURPRISE!!!! Happy Birthday Harry!" yelled everyone as they jumped out from their hiding places. Harry jumped in surprise and immediately began grinning from ear to ear. They hadn't forgotten his birthday after all. He looked around the room and found Hermione, all the Weasleys (excluding Percy), Tonks (who seemed to have decided that straight, just-below-shoulder-length black hair was the best look for her), and a few other members of the Order. Lupin walked from behind him and walked over to join the group. Harry stared in disbelief at the sight in front of him.

"You didn't think we would have forgotten your birthday, did you," said Lupin. "We wanted your sixteenth birthday to be special. We know it's a day late, but we figured that would add to the surprise factor," he added, smiling broadly.

"Well, come on Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "you've got some presents to open and some cake to eat!"

Harry warily started walking over to the long table where everyone was gathering. This must be a dream, thought Harry, but it wasn't. Hermione ran over to him and almost tackled him with her enthusiasm. She then diverted his attention to the gigantic cake that took up most of the table. Neatly scrolled across the cake in icing was, "Happy 16^th Birthday Harry". Piled on the floor lay several presents from those he knew best, Ron, Hermione, Professor Lupin, Ginny, Fred and George, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks. He sat down and, with the urging of those around him, began to open up the presents.

He opened Fred and George's present first and laughed at the sight of a giant box labeled from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Harry was sure he would find just about everything he would ever need to cause mischief around Hogwarts. Tonks gave him a book about famous Aurors and another package that was marked, " OPEN WHEN ALONE", so he stealthily slid it out of view from the others. Hagrid had given him a book that described all sorts of magical creatures and Ginny gave him an emerald shirt with "Quidditch" written across the chest. The green, she said, was sure to bring out his eyes. Mrs. Weasley got Harry a multi-purpose compass for his Firebolt, which reminded Harry that his broom was still being held at Hogwarts. He was deeply touched by the fact the Mrs. Weasley would spend such a great deal of money on him.

This left presents from Professor Lupin, Hermione, and Ron (plus the unopened present from Tonks). Harry decided to take a break from opening his present and to have some cake. Once everyone had had their fill, the partygoers turned to separate conversations. Harry was still elated about the great turn of events, but decided to gather up his presents, opened and unopened, and take them to his room. When he got there, he found that his belongings were already neatly arranged throughout the room. He laid down his packages and paused for a while to take in everything that had happened to him in the past few hours. He was no longer at the Dursley's, his friends hadn't forgotten his birthday, and he had received more birthday presents than ever before.

Harry was extremely happy, but something, someone rather, was missing: Sirius. He wished Sirius could have been at the party, catching up with how Harry's summer had been so far. He knew nothing was going to bring Sirius back, but that didn't keep him from hoping. To keep his mind from dwelling on thoughts about Sirius, Harry turned his attention back to his unopened presents. He half-expected Hermione to give him another homework organizer as she had last Christmas (since his had mysteriously been burnt in the fire in the Gryffindor common room). He was gladly proven wrong when he found a box of Honeyduke's chocolates and a subscription to "Quidditch Sporting Monthly", one of the best Quidditch magazines. Ron had given him several Chocolate Frogs and a travel-size wizards' chess set. Harry could foresee getting a lot of use out of this. And, since it's enchanted, he could play without an opponent.

Just then, Lupin walked in and could see Harry's eyes traveling toward the present he had gotten him. It was a small package, and attached to it was a note. Harry opened it and read:

Harry,

Ron and Hermione helped relay the story of what happened to Sirius's knife in the Department of Mysteries. As I was going through some of Sirius's possessions I found this. I think you'll make more use of it than I will.

Harry looked cautiously at Lupin since he was unsure of what he was about to uncover. Slowly, he began to unwrap the small package. As the tissue paper began unfolding, Harry realized what he held in his hands. It was Sirius's other knife. Why hadn't Harry thought of it before? Sirius wouldn't have given Harry his only lock-picking knife, he had another one. Harry's heart soared as he realized he held something that Sirius had undoubtedly treasured. The handle of this knife was elaborately decorated. Its base color was the burgundy of Gryffindor and beautiful, gold inlays of a dog, stag, werewolf, and a rat were on either side of it. Although Harry didn't enjoy seeing the rat displayed in gold, the other three figures more than made up for it. He remembered Lupin was still standing there. Harry walked over to him and gave him a hug of appreciation.

"Thank you," Harry managed to say in a weak voice.

"No problem," replied Lupin, "I thought you'd enjoy it. It sounds like you made good use of the other one he gave you... You want to come back down and join the party? There's still a lot left to eat," he added hopefully.

"That's alright, I've got this last one from Tonks to open up. It says I need to open it alone. When I'm done, I'll come down and... help deplete the food supply," Harry said, smiling. With that, Lupin nodded, quietly left the room, and went down to join the ongoing celebration.

Harry turned his attention to the last unopened present, Tonks's mystery gift. Shaking the box slightly and smiling out of speculation, Harry finally decided just to open it. Inside he found many packets of papers and a book entitled, "So You Want to Be An Animagus?" He also found a hand-written note from Tonks:

Harry,

Last year while you were at Hogwarts, Sirius always told me about the excursions he and James used to go on. He told me how he wanted you to have the opportunity to become an animagus if you wanted to. I told him that I could get the legal documents for it since I work at the Ministry. So, if you're interested, you could read up on how to become and animagus like your father and Sirius were. I've heard it's really difficult to do, but I'm sure you'll do well at it. Anyway, I got you the book that explains a lot about the tricky parts of it. I also included the paperwork so you can be a registered animagus. You have to be sixteen to apply for registration and it looks like you now qualify for that. This would have been Sirius's gift to you this year. I hope you enjoy it.

Always,

Tonks

Harry's heart leapt. It must have taken Tonks an incredibly long time to put all the papers together for him. Everything was neatly organized and labeled. What she lacked due to clumsiness, she made up for in neatness, not to mention thoughtfulness. Harry could hardly believe this was happening. He neatly put the papers back in their proper files and hid it under the rest of his presents. I'll tell Ron and Hermione, he thought to himself, just not right now. And with that, Harry put on a genuine smile, descended the stairs, and was greeted by many smiling faces.

* * * * * * * * * * *

After the party had finally died down and most of the Order had left on business, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley children (Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny) were gathered in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley and Professor Lupin. They were assigning everyone to certain rooms that they were to inspect and clean it to the best of their ability. Everyone except Ron and Harry had now been dismissed to their rooms.

"Ummm... well," said Lupin uneasily, "we need someone to go through Sirius's old room."

"I'll do it," said Harry immediately.

"Well, I'll help if you want me to," offered Ron.

"No, I can do it by myself," he snapped. He wanted to go through Sirius's things alone. Realizing how angry his voice had sounded, he recovered, "thanks for volunteering, though."

"No problem, so that leaves what for me," asked Ron. Then, with dawning comprehension, he realized his task. "No! Why do I get stuck with the upstairs bathrooms?! I can't believe this," and so he went off down the corridor muttering to himself about the injustice of it all.

Harry slowly turned around and began following Ron up the stairs, grabbing a broom and dustpan on the way. When he reached the door to the room where Sirius had spent the last year of his life, he took a deep breath, turned the knob, and walked inside. Immediately, he was greeted by the familiar smell of Sirius. Although it wasn't the most pleasant smell in the world, it was comforting to Harry. He looked across the room and his eyes fell on Buckbeak. Harry approached the Hippogriff in the manner that Hagrid had taught him in his third year. After stroking Buckbeak's long neck, he looked at the dust-covered floor and began sweeping. Once he had gotten rid of the layer of dirt on the stone floor, Harry turned his attention to the closet. He was almost afraid of what he might find in there. Opening the door, he was greeted by the dusty clothes, of which there were pitifully few, and personal effects of his late godfather. Harry took the clothes off the hangers and beat the dust off them, having a small coughing fit in the process.

Returning to the entryway to the closet, something caught Harry's eye. It was a small basin made of stone with runes on the outside that he figured Hermione could decipher. It was a pensieve, almost identical to the one Dumbledore had. Pensieves were used to hold thoughts and memories. Harry's heart beat faster as he realized that this pensieve held Sirius's thoughts. The swirling clouds seemed to beckon Harry to come closer. Harry bent down and dunked his head beneath the whirling white mass. The stone floor of Sirius's bedroom seemed to drop out from under Harry's feet. Harry was then transported to the downstairs corridor of Grimmauld place just by the front door. Harry could see the image of himself standing with Sirius by the doorway. Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Fred and George, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were already outside talking amongst themselves. Harry saw Sirius thrust a package into "his" hand.

"I want you to take this," whispered Sirius.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"A way of letting me know if Snape's giving you a hard time," Sirius said quietly, "No, don't open it here..."

Harry then felt someone's hand on his arm, pulling him out of Sirius's memory. The memory swirled around him and he soon found himself on the floor of Sirius's bedroom. Lupin stood beside him and helped him up off the ground. Harry was wondering why Lupin had pulled him out of the pensieve. He was just about to voice his thoughts when Professor Lupin beat him to it.

"I figured you'd find this thing once you came up here, Harry. Obviously, I don't need to tell you what this is or how to work it. It's filled with a lot of Sirius's memories and what he hoped would soon be memories. You were in most of the more recent ones. He put thoughts in there every day when he was here. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Harry opened his mouth, about to object, but Professor Lupin cut him off.

"He would have wanted you to have it. It has all his memories from Hogwarts. I think your parents' wedding is in there, too. You can use it, too, you know, if you want to. It can hold more than one pers --" Lupin's voice failed him for a moment, "more than one person's thoughts." He said, quickly recovering. Harry could tell that this conversation was a great deal harder for Professor Lupin than he let on. Sirius had been his best friend and now he was gone. The pensieve was all that was left of a record of Sirius's life. Harry couldn't take it away from him. Once again, though, Lupin seemed to be reading his mind.

"I need you to have it, Harry. I can't have it. Who knows, maybe one full moon if I forgot to take my potion, I could break it and then everything would be lost. You'll take good care of it, I know, Harry. Just... treasure it, okay?" With that, Lupin turned on his heels and left the room, leaving Harry speechless.

Harry saw no way of getting the pensieve down to his room without others noticing. Every door was open and filled with muttering people working hard at cleaning their rooms. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone about Sirius right now, feeling sure the pensieve would provoke such a conversation. He finally decided to take a stab at getting down to his room as quietly as possible. He shared his room with Ron, so Harry was sure he would question him about it later than evening. Miraculously, Harry made it down to his room without being seen. He set it on the large dresser beside his bed. I wonder, Harry thought to himself, if they make lids for pensieves so nothing spills out. Harry would inquire Lupin about it later when he got the chance. Harry was surprised to see Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's great-great-grandfather, in his portrait just beside Harry's bed. Phineas looked at Harry in an almost apologetic sort of way. The last time he had seen Harry was when he learned that Sirius had died. Afterwards, Phineas had spent almost an hour moving from portrait to portrait yelling for Sirius. Nothing was said between the two of them, only shared looks of acknowledgement. Leaving the swirling pensieve on the dresser, he shut the door behind him and returned to cleaning out Sirius's room.

That evening, once dinner had been eaten and everyone was getting sleepy, Harry and Ron returned to their shared room. Once inside, Ron immediately spotted the pensieve. He walked quickly over to it and stood a safe distance away, admiring it. Harry locked the bolt in the door to keep Kreacher from coming in at night while Ron turned to Harry, hoping for an explanation.

"It was Sirius's pensieve," was all Harry was willing to say.

Ron opened his mouth to inquire more about it, but sensed that Harry was reluctant to talk about the softly glowing basin sitting on the dresser. Harry looked at Ron, grateful he had decided not to talk about it any more.

"Well," said Ron, breaking the silence, "I'm extremely tired, what with all the cleaning and eating." He walked over to his bed and pulled back the covers, having already changed into his pajamas. Harry followed Ron's lead, still thankful he wouldn't have to answer any questions tonight. Harry had so many thoughts swirling around in his mind as he lay down on his cold bed. He turned off the light and laid his head on his pillow. He was so exhausted he slipped off to sleep in a matter of five minutes.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was the dead of night and no stars could be seen glittering up in the black sky. An eerie green glow cast about the grounds. The light came from a green fire that crackled intensely in the center of a circle of hooded figures. One figure began speaking in a high, cold voice.

"I have recently obtained information that all of you were unable to get for me. Your task was simple, but you failed. I, however, was able to overcome your... mis-take," said the voice, carefully enunciating the last word.

"I now have another job for a chosen one," the voice went on, " that is, if they are sure they can complete the challenge, for if they do not achieve the finished result, their life will become obsolete. Do I have any loyal volunteers that would be willing to take such a risk?"

The gathered Death Eaters were torn between loyalty and having the desire to preserve their lives. One of the cloaked figures, however, stood out and answered Voldemort's request.

"I'll do it, my Lord, if you will but give me a chance," said a surprisingly soft feminine voice, "I will not let you down, oh gracious one. I yearn for the chance to prove myself to you."

"You?" Voldemort questioned the hooded woman. "You must promise me that you will not become the coward that your father was."

"I have no father," said the voice, becoming suddenly cold and filled with contempt, "That wizard was a poor excuse for even a man, let alone a father."

"I am glad to see that you have made that conclusion," said the Dark Lord, "Very well, you shall be notified when I shall inform you of the appointed task." With a clap of his hands, all the figures disappeared and green flames engulfed the scene.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"AH!" said Harry quietly while gripping his scar. He was relieved that his sudden awakening hadn't woke Ron up. Gently massaging his forehead, Harry reached for his glasses and put them on. He was extremely frustrated by the fact that he had forgotten to clear his mind the past evening. He could tell though, that the scene in his dream actually happened. There was a certain urgency felt throughout the dream that told Harry it was real. He needed to tell someone, now. He stepped lightly over to the door, quietly unbolted the lock, and shut the door quietly behind him. Looking at his watch, his still sleepy eyes could make out "5:52". Great, he thought, like someone will be up this early, but someone was. When Harry walked into the kitchen, he saw Professor Lupin sitting in the middle of the incredibly long table. He appeared to be staring blankly at the wall, immersed in thought and concentration. Harry gently walked over to the table and sat down, opposite of Lupin.

"Sirius," said Lupin, as if it were more of a spoken thought than something directed to the sixteen-year-old now sitting in front of him.

"Professor Lupin," Harry said gently, not wanting to bring Lupin back to the physical world.

"Harry," said Lupin, his eyes suddenly focusing on the face opposite him, "what's wrong? You don't look well."

"I... umm... had a dream just now. - Please don't get mad. I... I usually clear my mind before I go to bed, but I forgot last night. Anyway, this dream seemed different. No, it was different. This dream was really happening." Harry whispered urgently.

Lupin was upset by the fact that Harry had allowed his unconscious mind to be affected by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was interested, though in hearing what Harry had to say. Maybe Harry was able to tell the difference and could tell his dream had actually occurred.

"Alright," Lupin said slowly, "what happened?"

Harry began telling the background of his dream and how everything appeared. Harry had strangely witnessed everything from a third person point-of-view. In his past dreams, he had always seen events through Voldemort's eyes. This bothered Harry, but he began to tell what was said. He stopped, however, when he came to the first dialogue.

"Vold... you-know-who said, 'I have recently obtained information that all of you were unable to get for me. Your task was simple, but you failed. I, however, was able to overcome your... mis-take'... What information would he be talking about?"

"I have absolutely no clue, Harry. We haven't gotten much information about him so far this summer. Do you have any ideas?" Lupin asked Harry.

"No, not really. I don't see why I woul-- Wait! There could be a connection between..." Harry said.

"What is it Harry?"

"I had one other strange dream this summer, that didn't have to do with... Sirius's... murder. It wasn't a dream, though. My mind was replaying my memory of last June when I was talking with Dumbledore. It was when he showed me the prophecy Professor Trelawney had made before I was born."

"I know about the prophecy, but you'll have to humor me because I don't know what it contained," explained Lupin, waiting for Harry's explanation of the prophecy.

"Well, it says that the one with the power to overthrow Voldemort will be born at the end of July and that he'll mark him, me rather, as his equal. I'll have power that he doesn't know about and that, basically, in the end, one of us has to kill the other. That's the gist of it. When the prophecy was made, Voldemort was only aware of the part with me being born at the end of July."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with your dream last night?" asked Lupin.

"That morning, I woke up with my scar hurting really bad. Come to think of it, I had that happy feeling that I got sometimes last year. You know, when he was happy, I was happy. Professor Lupin, I think that information he was talking about in my dream last night was what he saw in my other dream a few weeks ago. He knows the prophecy now," said Harry in an urgent voice, "He knows that one of us has to die."

"Harry, don't jump to conclusions. The Dark Lord has the ability to get just about any information he wants. This could have just been a simple dream."

"But it's not the same, Professor Lupin," Harry pleaded desperately, "my scar doesn't hurt every time I wake up from dreaming about Sirius. Look, do you believe me or not?"

"I believe you, Harry," Lupin said, trying to comfort him, "just promise me you won't get worked up about it until I find out more, alright? Look, just tell me about the rest of your dream and then I'll talk to the Order about it."

Harry continued to relay the events of his dream. He explained how, instead of a masculine voice, a woman had answered Voldemort's request. By the time he was done, Lupin looked calm, but too calm.

"Alright, Harry. I'll start asking around as soon as I can," he said calmly, "just try not to think of it as more than a dream for right now."

"Mmkay," Harry managed to say amidst his racing thoughts. Lupin could see Harry studying his calm façade with his piercing green eyes. Harry saw something in Lupin's face that made him uneasy ... fear.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley walked into the kitchen and looked quite shocked at seeing two disheveled wizards sitting at the table.

"Oh," she said, " good morning dears. I didn't expect anyone else would be up at this hour. Here, let me get you two some breakfast."

Chapter One: O.W.L.'s, Letters, and Owls, Oh My!

Under the roof of number four Privet Drive, only one soul was awake. It belonged to Harry Potter, a fifteen-year-old boy quite unassuming in appearance with wild black hair that had the tendency to never lie flat. He had just been awakened by the startling conclusion of the recurring nightmare of his godfather's (Sirius Black) death. He grabbed his round-framed glasses that lay just within reach on the lamp stand beside his bed and hastily put them on. He kept hoping that if he sat up fast enough, he might just see Sirius standing there, ready to tell him that his dream was just a dream. Harry's dazzling green eyes could be seen darting about the room searching desperately for something that was never to be seen. All he could hear was his Uncle Vernon's snores echoing throughout the house accompanied by the incoherent mumblings of his Aunt Petunia.

He had been having the same dream off and on throughout the summer and it was beginning to wear him thin. He didn't know how much more he would be able to stand. He missed Sirius so much, he found it hard to keep on a happy face, which, after a while, he stopped trying to do. If the nightmares had been like several of his dreams from last year, he would have tried clearing his mind and using whatever Occlumency he had learned from Professor Snape, but that was not the case. Since they were just regular dreams, Harry could do nothing but go to sleep, hoping they wouldn't come.

Harry was disappointed, yet still alert for anything out of the ordinary (Snuffles for instance, the shaggy black dog who was Sirius's animagus form). He reasoned that, perhaps, if he got a drink of water, he could attempt to clear his mind. Hesitating, he pulled himself out of bed and shuffled across the room. He tried to make his way downstairs as noiselessly as he could, automatically skipping the stairs that he knew would creak mercilessly. Unfortunately, he forgot about the very last step and a creak resounded throughout the house. He could hear his uncle's snoring falter and then cease altogether. Harry held his breath, waiting for the bellow that was sure to come. However, to his surprised relief, it never came.

He walked across the kitchen and filled a cup with water. Harry noticed a pair of cat-like eyes staring at him from the window across the room. He then realized that the eyes belonged to Mr. Tibbles, Mrs. Figg's cat. The cat scampered off down the street, undoubtedly off to report something to his owner. For all of Harry's life up until last summer, Mrs. Figg had been merely an irritating old muggle who lived down the street. Harry then found out, quite by mistake, that she was a Squib, someone born into a wizarding family, but is unable to successfully complete spells. Her orders had been to keep an undercover eye on Harry. Since then, Harry had visited her a few times and found her to be quite an agreeable woman.

With his glass in hand, he began wandering throughout the lower level of the house, allowing time for his mind to clear. He had been in a daze ever since he got back from Hogwarts. His mind hadn't been functioning normally ever since he witnessed Sirius's death. He constantly dwelled on all of the 'what if's' that would have prevented Sirius from being in the Department of Mysteries that night. Harry just couldn't forgive himself for wanting to play the hero. He had never even thought about it before, but now he realized that it was true. He always wanted to help someone even if he didn't know all the facts first. He had put himself, and worse, his friends, in danger. Hermione had tried to warn him, but came along anyway at her own risk. Harry surely would have been killed that night if his friends hadn't come along. Would he have still been okay, though, if Sirius hadn't been there?

Harry missed him so badly. He couldn't remember whether he had actually told Sirius how much he appreciated him. He was the closest thing he had to a real parent, and yet he was able to act like a friend. He wished Sirius could know how much he missed him, but that could never happen now. He was gone and there was no way to bring him back. Dumbledore had said so in his fourth year. There was no spell that could bring back the dead.

The pain inside him was steadily growing and it was hard to keep in. His days consisted of long walks throughout the neighborhood, reminiscing about his first encounters with his godfather. On good days he would walk over to Mrs. Figg's house and talk with her for a while, but on days when he was feeling particularly bad, he would just lock himself up in his room, finishing his summer homework, talking to Hedwig, and reading through the Quidditch books he had acquired over time.

Finishing off his water, Harry set off for his room again. After creeping silently up the stairs, he entered his room and shut the door quietly. He dragged his feet across the floor and collapsed onto his bed causing the springs to creak loudly. Lying on his back in frustration and disappointment, Harry wondered why he got his hopes up every night only to have them dashed the moment he opened his eyes. He felt himself getting worked up, but remembered he was supposed to "clear his mind of all thoughts and emotions". It was part of his practice of Occlumency and it was not mere summer homework. This was a crucial exercise he was to do before falling asleep because that is when his mind was most vulnerable to penetration. However, tonight, Harry didn't care if he was getting worked up. He had every right to be angry. Nothing seemed to be going his way any more. And so he fell softly off to sleep, but not a dreamless one...

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Harry's vision flickered between several things: the sight of Voldemort, smiling evilly, his red eyes glowing, Dumbledore, sleeping soundly in his bed, and himself, lying on his own bed with his eyes closed. He found himself in Dumbledore's office with the sun outside just starting to spread soft rays across the grounds. Dumbledore put the tip of his wand to his head and began pulling fine threads out and placing them in his pensieve. He then tapped the contents with his wand. A figure of Harry's Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, appeared in front of him. She spoke while in a trance-like state. The familiar words rang through his head...

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

He was rudely awakened early the next morning by an insistent owl tapping on his window. This incessant sound was further compacted by the searing pain in Harry's scar. Harry also noticed that he had a peculiar, happy feeling in the pit of his stomach. This happened to him all the time last year and he soon found out that, with a connection formed many years ago, he was able to feel Lord Voldemort's extreme moods, whether he was happy or extremely angry. Voldemort had used their connection to lie to Harry last year, so he shrugged off any uneasy thoughts and figured he could mention it to someone later. With the pain in his scar slowly ebbing away, he again realized that the Daily Prophet owl was still rapping at the window. He staggered across the room without his glasses on. With his eyes inches away from the wizard money in his hand, Harry was just able to distinguish one bronze Knut. He then placed it in the pouch attached to the owl's leg and pulled out the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. This newspaper was his lifeline to the wizarding community. By reading the pages cover to cover, he tried to discern whether Lord Voldemort had attempted to gain power or followers.

Nothing of much interest had shown itself in the paper that morning. Harry was pleased, however, to see that Fred and George Weasley's joke shop, "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes", was well advertised. Apparently their products were selling well enough that they were able to pay for advertisement space in the most widely read newspaper of the magical world. They had told Harry that business was booming. He was happy for them... they deserved to have something go right for them for once. Although Mrs. Weasley had been fuming when she first heard of what happened, she warmed up to the idea when she realized how well they were doing.

Seeing the Weasley name reminded Harry of Ron Weasley, Fred and George's younger brother, and one of Harry's best friends. He was looking forward to the day when he could leave Privet Drive for the summer and be reunited with Ron and his other best friend, Hermione Granger. Reluctantly bringing himself back to the reality of his sunlit room at number four, Harry realized that neither Ron nor Hermione had written him all summer. He was a little put off by this, but it seemed to happen to him every summer, so he decided to contact the two of them himself. Grabbing a quill, he scribbled small notes to Ron and Hermione and sent Hedwig, off to find them... wherever they were.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A week later, Harry was woken up by more than just the Daily Prophet owl. Hedwig had returned with several notes attached to her leg and a school owl had joined in the window-pecking festivities. Harry opened the window and grabbed money for the Daily Prophet owl first to diminish the owl number to a manageable level. Throwing the newspaper on his bed, Harry then reached for the official-looking letter attached to the leg of the school's barn owl. Finally, only Hedwig remained in Harry's bedroom. Relieving Hedwig of her several notes, Harry gathered his morning deliveries and lay down on his bed. Along with notes from Ron and Hermione, there was also a letter that appeared to be from someone in the Order. He decided to open this one first. It read:

Harry,

We just wanted to write you quickly to let you know when we would be collecting you for the summer. I'll be showing up at your place at twelve o'clock in the afternoon on August first. You'll be coming to the familiar place just as last time. We'll be taking a portkey so there's no need for your Firebolt. Hope this summer has been bearable, even with Sirius... gone. I miss him just like you do, Harry. Remember, he was my best friend. We'll talk more when you get here. There are a lot of things to attend to. Hang in there until then.

See you soon,

Remus

Harry's heart beat a little more easily now that he knew the day he would be able to leave this place. It was only a few weeks away, but it was a few weeks too many to be away from his friends. And what exactly had Lupin meant by, "there are a lot of things to attend to"? Well, I guess I'll find out soon enough. He then picked up the note from Hermione:

Harry! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to contact you before now. I've been spending as much time as I can with my mother and father since I haven't seen them for an entire year. I'm going to be arriving at you-know-where in about a week or so. Can't wait until you get there, too. But, most importantly, have you gotten your O.W.L.'s yet?! I just got mine back today and I am so relieved. I got all "O's". I can't believe it! I thought for sure I'd get an "E" in Ancient Runes. They must have gone easy on me. I'm so happy, though! Anyway, I can't wait for all of us to be together again. We'll be waiting for you.

Always,

Hermione

Harry was glad to know that his friends hadn't forgotten him. He was completely unsurprised at Hermione's O.W.L.'s scores and wondered what Ron had received. Aside from the letter from Hogwarts, which he was now sure held his O.W.L.'s results, Ron's was the only note left. He decided to put off the inevitable a little longer and opened up Ron's hastily scribbled message:

Hey Harry. I've been here at, well, you know. The whole family's been up here the whole summer... excluding Percy. He apologized to the family, but, well, mum and dad decided that they rather liked only having to pay for Ginny and me (Fred and George are self-sufficient now). So we're on talking terms with him, but it's still not the same. Dad's been busy at the ministry because of obvious reasons. Anyway, I've been busy helping to clean up this place some more; it's actually livable, I think. We managed to board up most of a certain portrait so "it" doesn't scream nearly as much now. Anyway, about the O.W.L.'s scores... I got an "O" in Defense and History (don't know how I managed the latter one, I swear I guessed on all but a few). I got a couple "E's", but I got an "A" in Potions and in Divination. I kind of expected the Divination one, though. I told you about the whole crystal ball disaster, but I guess I must have done something right because I passed. I thought I would have gotten a "P" in Potions, but I guess more actually sunk in than I thought. I'm just ecstatic that I passed all my classes. I'm sort of expecting another letter to come and say that they sent me the wrong owl. Anyway, Harry, I hope you did well. See you when you get here.

Ron

Harry was apprehensive in opening his last letter. He was halfway tempted not to even open it. He thought better of this, however, when he imagined Hermione lecturing him on the importance of knowing his O.W.L.'s results. Holding his breath, he slit open the envelope to reveal the neatly written words:

Mr. Harry James Potter

Number Four Privet Drive

O.W.L. Assessment Results:

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Potions: PA

Divination: A

History of Magic: A

Herbology: O

Transfiguration: E

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Astronomy: E

Charms: E

Harry was confused by the marking on his Potions O.W.L. He had always thought that there were only one-letter grades. However, he found a small note at the bottom of the letter that read:

Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have successfully passed all of your classes. The grade you received on your Potions test stands for, "Poorly Acceptable". We do not hand out many of those grades, so consider yourself extremely lucky.

Sincerely,

Griselda Marchbanks

Harry was extremely relieved to read that note. He was also ecstatic when it finally sunk in that he had passed all of his classes. After a bit of silent celebration, Harry decided to leisurely peruse the pages of the Daily Prophet and, once again, nothing of much interest had shown itself. He suddenly felt exhausted, not only because it was 5:30 in the morning, but because all of his tension had been released. He had finally heard from his friends and he had found out his O.W.L.'s results. He peacefully dropped off to sleep and did not stir again until late morning.

Chapter Two: Dreams and Gifts

The weeks leading up to Harry's departure from Privet Drive were almost unbearable. True, the Dursley's weren't treating him nearly as bad this summer as they had every one preceding it. The Order of the Phoenix, the front-line of defense against Lord Voldemort, had threatened the Dursley's that if Harry didn't keep up with contented letters every few days, one of them would show up at their front door. This horrified Vernon and Petunia to the point that they actually gave into the threat. Harry was allowed to watch television as he pleased, go on walks around the neighborhood, and, much to his cousin's dismay, he was even allowed to stay out past Dudley's curfew, not that he ever really did. He held up his part of the bargain, though, and obliged to write small letters to the Order saying that the Dursley's weren't being too terrible to him.

Harry was a bit perturbed by the fact that none of his friends had even mentioned his impending birthday in their letters. As the weeks passed and no other post came from those at Grimmauld Place, Harry grew extremely frustrated. His friends had never actually forgotten his birthday before. The Dursley's always did, but he expected that from them. The hopeful part of Harry figured that everyone was still busy trying to make the headquarters clean. Harry's pessimistic side told him that his friends had forgotten about him and didn't care that he would soon be sixteen. Both halves of Harry fought with each other until his birthday, July 31st, finally arrived. At that point, the rather pessimistic side of Harry won out. He was now sixteen, presentless, and had one day left until Lupin came to collect him from Privet.

Harry's birthday passed slowly and the Dursley's had shown no sign whatsoever that they had remembered. Hedwig had been his only company all day. He had kept himself occupied by reading a Quidditch book that Hermione had gotten him for a previous birthday. However, by that evening, Harry was in an extremely bad mood. Somehow that night, though, he managed to try and clear his mind so he wouldn't have any strange dreams. The last thing he needed was to have nightmares again.

Harry woke up early the next morning and received his last edition of the Daily Prophet for the summer. When he paid the owl, he told it that it would no longer need to come to Privet Drive any more that summer. The owl hooted in understanding and flew out the window. During the school year, he was sure that Hermione would have a subscription, so he would get the news anyway. Harry passed the remaining time until Professor Lupin arrived by reading the newspaper and packing his trunk. Eleven fifty-five rolled around and Harry heard the doorbell ring. He went downstairs to meet Lupin, but found Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon staring in horror at the open front door. Aunt Petunia seemed to find her words first,

"B-but Harry's told us he's been k-keeping up with his letters t-to you. He's been treated v-very well this summer. Yes, v-very well," she managed to sputter.

"He's been able to come and go as he p-pleases. He's even been allowed to watch the TV if he wishes to. We ha-haven't done anything bad to him." said Uncle Vernon, managing to twitch only on the occasional word.

"No, you don't understand," said Professor Lupin, "I'm just here to pick up Harry. We're taking him for the rest of the summer."

"Oh," Aunt Petunia said briskly, "why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"You didn't exactly give me a chance, did you miss?" Lupin asked rhetorically.

"Well," said Uncle Vernon, "no need to put off the joyous moment. HARRY, get down here... er, PLEASE!"

"I'm all packed professor," said Harry, who was still in a somewhat sour mood, "It's just upstairs if you want to come help me with it."

"Right behind you, Harry," Lupin said, walking inside the house and climbing the

stairs quickly.

When Lupin walked into Harry's room, he saw everything all of Harry's things neatly put together in the middle of the room. Harry stood, waiting for Lupin to say something, but awkwardly, he never did.

"Right, well then," said Harry, "seeing as I can't use magic and all, I was kind of hoping you could help me with my stuff."

"Of course," Lupin said, "Locomotor Trunk." With that, Harry's trunk levitated a few inches off the ground and Lupin began directing it down the stairs. Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and started following Lupin down the stairs. Once they reached the bottom, Lupin pulled out the portkey, a replica of a cellular phone.

"Okay, then," he said, "we've got a minute left Harry. I suggest you say your goodbyes."

"Bye!" Harry yelled.

A grunted, "G'bye" from Uncle Vernon was all he got. Harry wasn't bothered by this, though. He was happy to be leaving, although his resentment almost outweighed the happiness.

"Alright, Harry. Hang onto the portkey... three - two - one." With that, Harry felt the all too familiar jerk behind his navel. The Dursley's front hallway became a swirl of colors before it blended into the dark surroundings of number twelve Grimmauld Place, the former home of Sirius Black.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The hallway they had just appeared in was now empty except for Harry, Professor Lupin, and Harry's belongings. Harry noticed, just as Ron had said, that Mrs. Black's portrait had been boarded up for the most part.

"Well," said Lupin, "I don't suppose you've had lunch yet, have you? C'mon, let's get you something to eat." With that, Harry and Professor Lupin made their way to the kitchen. Harry reached the door first and pushed it open. He was surprised to see absolutely nothing. The lights weren't even on. Harry blankly reached for the light switch, found it, and flipped it on.

"SURPRISE!!!! Happy Birthday Harry!" yelled everyone as they jumped out from their hiding places. Harry jumped in surprise and immediately began grinning from ear to ear. They hadn't forgotten his birthday after all. He looked around the room and found Hermione, all the Weasleys (excluding Percy), Tonks (who seemed to have decided that straight, just-below-shoulder-length black hair was the best look for her), and a few other members of the Order. Lupin walked from behind him and walked over to join the group. Harry stared in disbelief at the sight in front of him.

"You didn't think we would have forgotten your birthday, did you," said Lupin. "We wanted your sixteenth birthday to be special. We know it's a day late, but we figured that would add to the surprise factor," he added, smiling broadly.

"Well, come on Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "you've got some presents to open and some cake to eat!"

Harry warily started walking over to the long table where everyone was gathering. This must be a dream, thought Harry, but it wasn't. Hermione ran over to him and almost tackled him with her enthusiasm. She then diverted his attention to the gigantic cake that took up most of the table. Neatly scrolled across the cake in icing was, "Happy 16^th Birthday Harry". Piled on the floor lay several presents from those he knew best, Ron, Hermione, Professor Lupin, Ginny, Fred and George, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks. He sat down and, with the urging of those around him, began to open up the presents.

He opened Fred and George's present first and laughed at the sight of a giant box labeled from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Harry was sure he would find just about everything he would ever need to cause mischief around Hogwarts. Tonks gave him a book about famous Aurors and another package that was marked, " OPEN WHEN ALONE", so he stealthily slid it out of view from the others. Hagrid had given him a book that described all sorts of magical creatures and Ginny gave him an emerald shirt with "Quidditch" written across the chest. The green, she said, was sure to bring out his eyes. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had gotten Harry some Floo Powder. He thought it was rather odd at first, but then realized that it would be rather helpful. If he ever wanted to pop in during the school year, he could just use the common room fireplace when no one else was around. It was rather ingenious and he was grateful for their present.

This left presents from Professor Lupin, Hermione, and Ron (plus the unopened present from Tonks). Harry decided to take a break from opening his presents and to have some cake. He had never had a wizard cake before and was amazed to see that the cake would actually change flavors on command to fit the eater's taste. Once everyone had had their fill, the partygoers turned to separate conversations. Harry was still elated about the great turn of events, but decided to gather up his presents, opened and unopened, and take them to his room. When he got there, he found that his belongings were already neatly arranged throughout the room. He laid down his packages and paused for a while to take in everything that had happened to him in the past few hours. He was no longer at the Dursley's, his friends hadn't forgotten his birthday, and he had received more birthday presents than ever before.

Harry was extremely happy, but something, someone rather, was missing: Sirius. He wished Sirius could have been at the party, catching up with how Harry's summer had been so far. He knew nothing was going to bring Sirius back, but that didn't keep him from hoping. To keep his mind from dwelling on thoughts about his godfather, Harry turned his attention back to his unopened presents. He half-expected Hermione to give him another homework organizer as she had last Christmas (since his had mysteriously been burnt in the fire in the Gryffindor common room). He was gladly proven wrong when he found a box of Honeyduke's chocolates and a subscription to "Quidditch Sporting Monthly", one of the best Quidditch magazines. Ron had given him several Chocolate Frogs and a travel-size wizards' chess set. Harry could foresee getting a lot of use out of this. And, since it's enchanted, he could play without an opponent.

Just then, Lupin walked in and could see Harry's eyes traveling toward the present he had gotten him. It was a small package, and attached to it was a note. Harry opened it and read:

Harry,

Ron and Hermione helped relay the story of what happened to Sirius's knife in the Department of Mysteries. As I was going through some of Sirius's possessions I found this. I think you'll make more use of it than I will.

Harry looked cautiously at Lupin since he was unsure of what he was about to uncover. Slowly, he began to unwrap the small package. As the tissue paper began unfolding, Harry realized what he held in his hands. It was Sirius's other knife. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Sirius wouldn't have given Harry his only lock-picking knife, he had another one. Harry's heart soared as he realized he held something that Sirius had undoubtedly treasured. The handle of this knife was elaborately decorated. Its base color was the burgundy of Gryffindor and beautiful, gold inlays of a dog, stag, werewolf, and a rat were on either side of it. Although Harry didn't enjoy seeing the rat displayed in gold, the other three figures more than made up for it. He remembered Lupin was still standing there, so he walked over to him and gave him a hug of appreciation.

"Thank you," Harry managed to say in a weak voice.

"No problem," replied Lupin, "I thought you'd enjoy it. It sounds like you made good use of the other one he gave you... You want to come back down and join the party? There's still a lot left to eat," he added hopefully.

"That's alright, I've got this last one from Tonks to open up. It says I need to open it alone. When I'm done, I'll come down and... help deplete the food supply," Harry said, smiling. With that, Lupin nodded, quietly left the room, and went down to join the ongoing celebration.

Harry turned his attention to the last unopened present, Tonks's mystery gift. Shaking the box slightly and smiling out of speculation, Harry finally decided just to open it. Inside he found many packets of papers and a book entitled, "So You Want to Be An Animagus?" He also found a hand-written note from Tonks:

Harry,

Last year while you were at Hogwarts, Sirius always told me about the excursions he and James used to go on. He told me how he wanted you to have the opportunity to become an animagus if you wanted to. I told him that I could get the legal documents for it since I work at the Ministry. So, if you're interested, you could read up on how to become and animagus like your father and Sirius were. I've heard it's really difficult to do, but I'm sure you'll do well at it. Anyway, I got you the book that explains a lot about the tricky parts of it. I also included the paperwork so you can be a registered animagus. You have to be sixteen to apply for registration and it looks like you now qualify for that. This would have been Sirius's gift to you this year. I hope you enjoy it.

Always,

Tonks

Harry's heart leapt. It must have taken Tonks an incredibly long time to put all the papers together for him. Everything was neatly organized and labeled. What she lacked due to clumsiness, she made up for in neatness, not to mention thoughtfulness. Harry could hardly believe this was happening. He neatly put the papers back in their proper files and hid it under the rest of his presents. I'll tell Ron and Hermione, he thought to himself, just not right now. And with that, Harry put on a genuine smile, descended the stairs, and was greeted by many smiling faces.

* * * * * * * * * * *

After the party had finally died down and most of the Order had left on business, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley children (Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny) were gathered in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley and Professor Lupin. They were assigning everyone to certain rooms that they were to inspect and clean to the best of their ability. Everyone except Ron and Harry had now been dismissed to their proper rooms.

"Ummm... well," said Lupin uneasily, "we need someone to go through Sirius's old room."

"I'll do it," said Harry immediately.

"Well, I'll help if you want me to," offered Ron.

"No, I can do it by myself," he snapped. He wanted to go through Sirius's things alone. Realizing how angry his voice had sounded, he recovered, "thanks for volunteering, though."

"No problem, so that leaves what for me," asked Ron. Then, with dawning comprehension, he realized his task. "No! Why do I get stuck with the upstairs bathrooms?! I can't believe this," and so he went off down the corridor muttering to himself about the injustice of it all.

Harry slowly turned around and began following Ron up the stairs, grabbing a broom and dustpan on the way. When he reached the door to the room where Sirius had spent the last year of his life, he took a deep breath, turned the knob, and walked inside. Immediately, he was greeted by the familiar smell of Sirius. Although it wasn't the most pleasant smell in the world, it was comforting to Harry. He looked across the room and his eyes fell on Buckbeak. Harry approached the Hippogriff in the manner that Hagrid had taught him in his third year. After stroking Buckbeak's long neck, he looked at the dust-covered floor and began sweeping. Once he had gotten rid of the layer of dirt that had coated the stone floor, Harry turned his attention to the closet. He was almost afraid of what he might find in there. Opening the door, he was greeted by the dusty clothes, of which there were pitifully few, and personal effects of his late godfather. Harry took the clothes off the hangers and beat the dust off them, having a small coughing fit in the process.

Returning to the entryway to the closet, something caught Harry's eye. It was a small basin made of stone with runes on the outside that he figured Hermione could decipher. It was a pensieve, almost identical to the one Dumbledore had. Pensieves were used to hold thoughts and memories. Harry's heart beat faster as he realized that this pensieve held Sirius's thoughts. The swirling clouds seemed to beckon Harry to come closer. Harry bent down and dunked his head beneath the whirling white mass. The stone floor of Sirius's bedroom seemed to drop out from under Harry's feet. Harry was then transported to the downstairs corridor of Grimmauld place just by the front door. Harry could see the image of himself standing with Sirius by the doorway. Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Fred and George, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were already outside talking amongst themselves. Harry saw Sirius thrust a package into "his" hand.

"I want you to take this," whispered Sirius.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"A way of letting me know if Snape's giving you a hard time," Sirius said quietly, "No, don't open it here..."

Harry then felt someone's hand on his arm, pulling him out of Sirius's memory. The memory swirled around him and he soon found himself on the floor of Sirius's bedroom. Lupin stood beside him and helped him up off the ground. Harry was wondering why he had pulled him out of the pensieve and was just about to voice his thoughts when Professor Lupin beat him to it.

"I figured you'd find this thing once you came up here, Harry. Obviously, I don't need to tell you what this is or how to work it. It's filled with a lot of Sirius's memories and what he hoped would soon be memories. You were in most of the more recent ones. He put thoughts in there every day when he was here. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Harry opened his mouth, about to object, but Professor Lupin cut him off.

"He would have wanted you to have it. It has all his memories from Hogwarts. I think your parents' wedding is in there, too. You can use it, too, you know, if you want to. It can hold more than one pers --" Lupin's voice failed him for a moment, "more than one person's thoughts." He said, quickly recovering. Harry could tell that this conversation was a great deal harder for Professor Lupin than he let on. Sirius had been his best friend and now he was gone. The pensieve was all that was left of a record of Sirius's life. Harry couldn't take it away from him. Once again, though, Lupin seemed to be reading his mind.

"I need you to have it, Harry. I can't take it. Who knows, maybe one full moon if I forgot to take my potion, I could break it and then everything would be lost. You'll take good care of it, I know, Harry. You won't be able to get it to Hogwarts just yet because I need to figure out how to keep the memories in there. Just... treasure it, okay?" With that, Lupin turned on his heels and left the room, leaving Harry speechless.

Harry saw no way of getting the pensieve down to his room without others noticing. Every door was open and filled with muttering people working hard at cleaning their rooms. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone about Sirius right now, feeling sure the pensieve would provoke such a conversation. He finally decided to take a stab at getting down to his room as quietly as possible. He shared his room with Ron, so Harry was sure he would question him about it later than evening. Miraculously, Harry made it down to his room without being seen. He set it on the large dresser beside his bed. I wonder, Harry thought to himself, if they make lids for pensieves so nothing spills out. Harry would inquire Lupin about it later when he got the chance. Harry was surprised to see Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's great-great-grandfather, in his portrait just beside Harry's bed. Phineas looked at Harry in an almost apologetic sort of way. The last time he had seen Harry was when he learned that Sirius had died. Afterwards, Phineas had spent almost an hour moving from portrait to portrait yelling for Sirius. Nothing was said between the two of them, only shared looks of acknowledgement. Leaving the swirling pensieve on the dresser, he shut the door behind him and returned to cleaning out Sirius's room.

That evening, once dinner had been eaten and everyone was getting sleepy, Harry and Ron returned to their shared room. Once inside, Ron immediately spotted the pensieve. He walked quickly over to it and stood a safe distance away, admiring it. Harry locked the bolt in the door to keep Kreacher from coming in at night while Ron turned to Harry, hoping for an explanation.

"It was Sirius's pensieve," was all Harry was willing to say.

Ron opened his mouth to inquire more about it, but sensed that Harry was reluctant to talk about the softly glowing basin sitting on the dresser. Harry looked at Ron, grateful he had decided not to talk about it any more.

"Well," said Ron, breaking the silence, "I'm extremely tired, what with all the cleaning and eating." He walked over to his bed and pulled back the covers, having already changed into his pajamas. Harry followed Ron's lead, still thankful he wouldn't have to answer any questions tonight. Harry had so many thoughts swirling around in his mind as he lay down on his cold bed. He turned off the light and laid his head on his pillow. He was so exhausted he slipped off to sleep in a matter of five minutes.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was the dead of night and no stars could be seen shimmering in the black sky. An eerie green glow was cast about the grounds. The light came from a green fire that crackled intensely in the center of a circle of hooded figures. One figure began speaking in a high, cold voice.

"I have recently obtained information that all of you were unable to get for me. Your task was simple, but you failed. I, however, was able to overcome your... mis-take," said the voice, carefully enunciating the last word.

"I now have another job for a chosen one," the voice went on, "that is, if they are sure they can complete the challenge, for if they do not achieve the finished result, their life will become obsolete. The completion of the task would enable me to focus on more important things. Do I have any loyal volunteers that would be willing to take such a risk?"

The gathered Death Eaters were torn between loyalty and having the desire to preserve their lives. One of the cloaked figures, however, stood out and answered Voldemort's request.

"I'll do it, my Lord, if you will but give me a chance," said a surprisingly soft feminine voice, "I will not let you down, oh gracious one. I yearn for the chance to prove myself to you."

"You?" Voldemort questioned the hooded woman. "You must promise me that you will not become the coward that your father was."

"I have no father," said the voice, becoming suddenly cold and filled with contempt, "That wizard was a poor excuse for even a man, let alone a father."

"I am glad to see that you have made that conclusion," said the Dark Lord, "Very well, you shall be notified when I will inform you of the appointed task." With a clap of his hands, all the figures disappeared and green flames engulfed the scene.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"AH!" said Harry quietly while gripping his scar. He was relieved that his sudden awakening hadn't woke Ron up. Gently massaging his forehead, Harry reached for his glasses and put them on. He was extremely frustrated by the fact that he had forgotten to clear his mind the past evening. He could tell, though, that the scene in his dream actually happened. There was a certain urgency felt throughout the dream that told Harry it was real. He needed to tell someone, now. He stepped lightly over to the door, quietly unbolted the lock, and shut the door quietly behind him. Looking at his watch, his still sleepy eyes could make out "5:52". Great, he thought, like someone will be up this early, but someone was. When Harry walked into the kitchen, he saw Professor Lupin sitting in the middle of the incredibly long table. He appeared to be staring blankly at the wall, immersed in thought and concentration. Harry gently walked over to the table and sat down, opposite of Lupin.

"Sirius," said Lupin, as if it were more of a spoken thought than something directed to the sixteen-year-old now sitting in front of him.

"Professor Lupin," Harry said gently, not wanting to bring Lupin back to the physical world.

"Harry," said Lupin, his eyes suddenly focusing on the face opposite him, "what's wrong? You don't look well."

"I... umm... had a dream just now. - Please don't get mad. I... I usually clear my mind before I go to bed, but I forgot to last night. Anyway, this dream seemed different. No, it was different. This dream was really happening." Harry whispered urgently.

Lupin was upset by the fact that Harry had allowed his unconscious mind to be affected by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was interested, though, in hearing what Harry had to say. Maybe Harry was able to tell the difference and could tell his dream had actually occurred.

"Alright," Lupin said slowly, "what happened?"

Harry began telling the background of his dream and how everything appeared. Harry had strangely witnessed everything from a third person point-of-view. In his past dreams, he had always seen events through Voldemort's eyes. This bothered Harry, but he began to tell what was said. He stopped, however, when he came to the first dialogue.

"Vold... you-know-who said, 'I have recently obtained information that all of you were unable to get for me. Your task was simple, but you failed. I, however, was able to overcome your... mis-take'... What information would he be talking about?"

"I have absolutely no clue, Harry. We haven't gotten much information about him so far this summer. Do you have any ideas?" Lupin asked Harry.

"No, not really. I don't see why I woul-- Wait! There could be a connection between..." Harry said.

"What is it Harry?"

"I had one other strange dream this summer, that didn't have to do with... Sirius's... murder. It wasn't a dream, though. My mind was replaying my memory of last June when I was talking with Dumbledore. It was when he showed me the prophecy Professor Trelawney had made before I was born."

"I know about the prophecy, but you'll have to humor me because I don't know what it contained," explained Lupin, waiting for Harry's explanation of the prophecy.

"Well, it says that the one with the power to overthrow Voldemort will be born at the end of July and that he'll mark him, me rather, as his equal. I'll have power that he doesn't know about and that, basically, in the end, one of us has to kill the other. That's the gist of it. When the prophecy was made, Voldemort was only aware of the part with me being born at the end of July."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with your dream last night?" asked Lupin.

"That morning, I woke up with my scar hurting really bad. Come to think of it, I had that happy feeling that I got sometimes last year. You know, when he was happy, I was happy. Professor Lupin, I think that information he was talking about in my dream last night was what he saw in my other dream a few weeks ago. He knows the prophecy now," said Harry in an urgent voice, "He knows that one of us has to die."

"Harry, don't jump to conclusions. The Dark Lord has the ability to get just about any information he wants. This could have just been a simple dream."

"But it's not the same, Professor Lupin," Harry pleaded desperately, "my scar doesn't hurt every time I wake up from dreaming about Sirius. Look, do you believe me or not?"

"I believe you, Harry," Lupin said, trying to comfort him, "just promise me you won't get worked up about it until I find out more, alright? Look, just tell me about the rest of your dream and then I'll try to find out more."

Harry continued to relay the events of his dream. He explained how, instead of a masculine voice, a woman had answered Voldemort's request. By the time he was done, Lupin looked calm, but too calm.

"Alright, Harry. I'll start asking around as soon as I can," he said calmly, "just try not to think of it as more than a dream for right now."

"Mmkay," Harry managed to say amidst his racing thoughts. Lupin could see Harry studying his calm façade with his piercing green eyes. Harry saw something in Lupin's face that made him uneasy ... uncertainty.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley walked into the kitchen and looked quite shocked at seeing two disheveled wizards sitting at the table.

"Oh," she said, " good morning dears. I didn't expect anone else would be up at this hour. Here, let me get you two some breakfast."