Angels Crying

Oh, and to Dean, who would kill me if he knew I'd used his name on here.


* * * * *

“Go on, Prongs,” said Sirius, nudging James forward. James hesitated.

    “I - I don’t know…”

    Remus sighed and said in a bored voice, “For God’s sakes, James, just do it.”

    “But-”

    “No buts,” said Sirius forcefully. “Not for nothing have I given up drinking, playing pranks, and generally every other fun thing in this school, which also means me and Remus haven’t been able to….you know…up there.”

    Remus nodded feverishly. “Yeah. I mean, I have no idea how making me and Sirius - er - stop - well, you know what I mean - is helping you anyway. Rather mean to take something like that away from us, if you follow,” he said with a pout.

    “It shows that we do not do things like that in our dorm,” said James composedly.

    “But we do,” said Sirius, indicating himself and Remus. “So go on and ask her.”

    “Oh, all right," James said. He made forward, then said in a strangled voice, “I mean, you’re sure she’ll say yes? What if-”

    “Listen to me, James,” said Sirius. “You have done everything possible to make Lily like you. You’ve even stopped hexing Snape. For the most part. And if this doesn’t work, there’s nothing that will.”

    James’s face looked strained but he didn’t speak.

    “But I doubt you’ll have any problems at all,” said Sirius with a small laugh. “You’re head’s so deflated you’re hardly any fun anymore.”

    “Hey!”

    “Just kidding, Prongs,”

    James nodded feebly and walked resolutely forward. “Hey…Ev- I mean, Lily - can I…I mean…will you…come here?”

                        ~

    “Harry. Harry.”

    Harry Potter sat up and gazed blearily around him. He could make out a large blob of red at the foot of his bed, and said in a sleepy voice, “Ron?”

    “Harry. You were dreaming, is all.”

    Harry was slightly confused. “Wh-what?” he yawned.

    “Did you have a You-Know-Who nightmare, Harry?”    

    Harry stared at Ron, utterly perplexed. “No….why?”

    “You’re kind of pale and you look sort of ill or something,” said Ron.

    “Oh….no, not a nightmare. It was….weird.”

    “Weird how?” said Ron, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “What was it about?”

    “It was….” Harry screwed up his eyes, trying to remember the dream. “About my dad….and - and Sirius….and Remus….”

    “Who?” said Ron, looking puzzled. “Oh - Professor Lupin! What was it about?”

    “Just about them….at school,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

    “Almost breakfast,” said Ron. Putting on his glasses, Harry saw that the dorm was empty except for himself and Ron, who was already dressed.

    “I’ll meet you at breakfast, alright?” said Harry, stretching and climbing out of bed.

    “All right, mate. See you,” said Ron, still looking a bit concerned, and he left the room.

    As Ron left, Harry felt his thoughts drifting back to the dream. It had been so…real. And strange. He’d never seen that before. He had no idea how the time when his father had asked his mother out would have gotten into his head….

    He felt a twinge of annoyance in his scar that hardly surprised him. It’d been happening all year so far. Had continued nonstop, in fact, all summer and for the past three months of school - getting feelings of anger, or happiness, that had nothing to do with whatever he was doing at the time.

    He sighed. He supposed the dream was just a direct result of all the yet-to-be-expressed anger and sadness he was feeling after Sirius’s death. A death, moreover, that had brought the reminder of his parents’ deaths crashing back to him…

                        ~

    When he entered the Great Hall, he felt his eyes perform their now familiar glance at Dumbledore, hoping, praying, for some sign of what was going on outside the castle walls.

    It had been weeks since he’d heard news, but everything in his life had been toned down after Sirius’s death; made, somehow, less important. Everything, that is, except the fresh pain of losing Sirius….

    This morning, however, he knew Dumbledore had important Order news. The signs might have been readable to few in the Hall, but Harry recognized them; fingers laced together, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling, Dumbledore was wearing a brooding expression. Both McGonagall’s and Snape’s expressions were utterly unreadable, despite the apprehensive looks they kept shooting at Dumbledore.

    Harry sat down between Ron and Hermione, only vaguely hearing Ron say, “Quidditch this evening, Harry. What do you think our chances are against Slytherin?”

    Ignoring Ron, Harry turned to Hermione. She was wearing a expression very similar to Dumbledore’s, except, when Harry prodded her gently in the arm, she turned and said, “What do you think he knows, Harry?”

    Harry shrugged, watching Dumbledore carefully. It was difficult to say whether he had good news or bad. Snape looked up at Harry, who was finally able to read absolute nervousness along with several other indistinct emotions in the potion master’s eyes.

    “Snape looks….nervous,” Harry said.

    “Well, he does have a very trying job, if you know what I mean,” said Hermione.

    Harry shrugged again. He watched as McGonagall and Sprout started talking in low voices. He was just taking a bite of egg when Dumbledore looked abruptly down from the ceiling and directly at Harry.

    Harry choked. Great, he thought dispiritedly. I should have known. It’s got something to do with me… He groaned.

    “What’s wrong, Harry?” said Hermione, though she seemed to have guessed. Patting him on the arm, she added, “I’m sure it’s nothing, Harry.”

    When Harry continued to look forlorn, she started attempting to steer the conversation away from whatever news Dumbledore had. “So….Ron told me you had an odd dream.”

    Harry blinked. For a moment he felt a tiny spark of anger, but it was soon extinguished. “Yeah….’bout my dad and Remus. And….” he gulped. “And….”

    “Sirius?”

    He nodded mutely.

    “What was it about?” she pressed.

    He took another gulp of air. When he spoke, his breathing was slightly ragged. “When….they were all….at school….” He felt tears well up in his eyes, something he had hoped he was past but knew he never would quite be.

    Hermione seemed to understand, because she gave him a sympathetic smile and patted him on the arm again.

                        ~

    Harry felt more and more, and increasingly frequent, twinges of annoyance over the next week, something that worried him a little, but generally made him feel pleased. If Voldemort was unhappy, it probably meant that Dumbledore had good news, whatever it was.

    He also had several more dreams about his father and his friends. They were still confusing. He still had no idea where these dreams could have formed. The dreams were usually followed by him feeling empty and bemused, then annoyed, then sad again.

    But today he woke with a kind of sick joy. And he did not like it. It seemed as though Dumbledore’s plans had somehow gone wrong, or something else had happened to Voldemort’s advantage.

    After confiding these feelings to Ron and Hermione, Harry was shocked to find that neither seemed fussed. Ron did not seem to even immediately register the words, but continued to rant about the Slytherin Quidditch team. Hermione, however, had said that Dumbledore’s plans rarely went horribly wrong, and if he was so worried about why didn’t he just go and speak to Dumbledore about it?

    And that was just what Harry intended to do. But even now, as he approached the stone gargoyle, he was not sure what Dumbledore would tell him. The whole Order seemed infernally convinced that he should not hear a word of their doings, and he doubted Dumbledore would be any different.

    But at least, said a tiny voice in his mind. At least if you break down when you tell him about the dreams, he won’t mind. Because he’s Dumbledore. The voice was filled with self-disgust and self-pity.

    He had reached the stone gargoyle. “Sugar Quill?”

    It sprang aside and revealed a moving spiral staircase onto which he hopped. He heard the stone wall close behind him and immediately wondered if he ought to be doing this at all….

    He stepped off the staircase. He paused outside Dumbledore’s door….

    Go on, said a voice in his head. He won’t mind.

    Like hell he won’t, said a different voice.

    “Shut up,” he told himself aloud. He smiled as he thought about what Phineas Nigellus would say if he heard that….

    “First sign of madness, talking to your own head.”

    At the thought of Phineas he was reminded of Grimmauld Place and Sirius. He felt a hard lump in his throat that threatened to make him spill tears, but he shook his head and reached for the knocker.

    “….yes….I understand….”

    Harry pressed his ear to the door. He was quite sure he could hear voices inside.

    “….can he….?”

    Most of the words were indistinct and jumbled….

    “….no….illusion….don’t worry….”

    He concentrated with all his might on trying to distinguish the words. He was unsuccessful, however, and a moment later thought he must have imagined them because all was silent past the door. He knocked.

    “Come in.”

    Harry opened the door and saw Dumbledore sitting alone at his desk. “Ah, Harry. Please, have a seat.”

    Harry walked slowly forward and sat across from Dumbledore. He noticed that most of the instruments that he had smashed last June were repaired, though a few lay in shards on their proper table. He saw that the portraits around the wall were watching him closely. His eyes lingered on one to the left of Dumbledore’s desk, an empty frame. “Phineas,” he muttered under his breath.

    Dumbledore smiled at him. Harry was glad to see that Dumbledore was, at the least, not afraid to make eye contact with him. “Professor Lupin tells me you have made real progress with your Occlumency this term, Harry.”

    Harry managed a small grin in return. He had made quite a lot of progress with Professor Lupin, whom he had been meeting once a week in Lupin’s old office to practice. In truth, it had been the fact that one too many lessons had ended in a tear-stained Harry and a grief-stricken Lupin that had inspired his dramatic improvement, but he wasn‘t about to say that to Dumbledore. “Thank you, Professor.”

    “What is it you came to speak to me about, Harry?” said Dumbledore.

    “Er- well, you see….you know how I can sort of….read Voldemort’s….mood?”

    Dumbledore’s eyebrows knitted together for a brief moment before he nodded.

    “Well, this morning, I woke up all….happy. Only….well, it was this odd happy, you know?”

    Dumbledore nodded again.

    “And it didn’t….it didn’t match my dream….” Harry knew how strange that must sound and elaborated. “Like, normally these dreams make me all….confused, then frustrated, then sad.” He guessed what Dumbledore was going to ask before he even opened his mouth.

    “How many times have you had “these dreams”?”

    Harry was relieved Dumbledore hadn’t asked the content of the dreams, but he knew they were dangerously close to discussing them.

    “About….a week.”

    “Can you tell me what they contain?” asked Dumbledore softly.

    Harry winced. He had known this was coming. “Well….they’re about….my dad and Professor Lupin….and…..and Sirius.”

    Dumbledore studied Harry for quite some time without speaking.

    There, said a voice in his head. You did it.

    Well, not really, said the other voice. You haven’t explained them yet.

    Harry looked around the room and his eyes fell on the empty frame, at which point the voices stopped arguing.

    Dumbledore seemed to be thinking very hard about something. Then he said, “These dreams….when do they take place?”

    Harry stared at him. “At night….You know, when I’m asleep.”

    Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. “You misunderstand me. I should say, what form to the people in the dream take on?”

    Harry gazed at Dumbledore, bewildered. Then, thinking of a certain shaggy dog, he said, “Human form.”

    Dumbledore let a small laugh escape him. “I mean, how old are the people in your dreams?” he amended.

    “Oh….in their last year at Hogwarts,” he said, feeling immensely stupid and wondering how this was relevant.

    Dumbledore nodded and lapsed back into thought.

    Several minutes later, Harry said, “Professor Dumbledore? Do you think this all has something to do with Voldemort?”

    Dumbledore continued to gaze at Harry for a moment. “I think everything is in direct correlation with what happened last June, Harry,” he said delicately.

    “But what about my scar? Why was I happy?”

    Dumbledore smiled at him again. “I think that it is just the aftermath of your loss.”

    “But….How can I make it stop?”

    “Stop? Why, all you have to do, Harry, is come to terms with what happened.”

    “I am at terms!”

    “I think you should take a walk, Harry. Think things over.”

    Harry gaped at him. Then-

    “All right then,” he said, and he marched out.

    Dumbledore’s advice had been to “take a walk”? Well he didn’t need to hear that sort of crappy advice….

    He kicked the wall in his anger, which did not really make him any less angry but instead forced him to hop back to Gryffindor Tower…

                    ~

    “Well, that is pretty good advice, Harry.”

    He couldn’t believe his ears. “What the hell do you mean, its good advice?”

    “It’s just that….I think he’s right.”

    “I just walked all the way back from his office and I do not feel an ounce better,” said Harry, rubbing his big toe.

    “No, I mean about coming to terms with it.”

    Harry gaped at her. “Look, Herm,” he said, trying to keep the anger from his voice. “I am at terms with it. I know I’m never going to see the blasted man again.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished they weren‘t. Sorry, Sirius, he thought.

    “But, Harry-”

    “Listen to me, Hermione. I’ve accepted it. I’ve came to terms with it. But I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

    Hermione looked hurt. “Maybe I’d just better leave,” she muttered, standing up.

    “No….no, Hermione. Stay.” She eyed him skeptically. “Please….I’m sorry.”

    She sighed. “Oh, all right.” she said, sitting down beside him. “What did Ron say when you told him, anyway?”

    “He didn’t say anything. He’s so damn obsessed with Quidditch.”

    “Oh, yes. You never talk about Quidditch.” she said derisively.

    “Okay, some. But it’s like….all he’s got on his mind….”

    “I know….”

    They sat in silence for a while. Harry was trying to push all thoughts of Sirius to the back of his head, but it wasn’t working. Soon he felt the familiar lump in his throat….

    “Do you want to go for a walk?”

    “What?” he choked.

    “Do you want to go for a walk with me?”

    He stared. “Sure….why?”

    “I think you need to talk. And I know you aren’t going to here, so I figure maybe you will somewhere else.”

    He felt his jaw drop. “God, how is it that you can read my mind?”

    She laughed. “Come on,” she added, seizing him by the arm, and walking him to the portrait hole.

                        ~

    “….I just miss him so much,” he concluded. They were now on the grounds, near the Quidditch pitch.

    “I know,” she said patting him on the arm.

    He thought for a moment, taking in the barely visible stands. Then he said, so quietly that it was almost a whisper, “He came and watched every match I played in my third year. He sat up there,” he added, pointing into the stands.

    He didn’t speak again for a long time. He knew that if he spoke he’d break down, and there was just no way he could ever bring himself to cry in front of Hermione Granger.

    “Just try to remember all the happy times you had with him,” she said finally.

    Harry frowned. “It’s just that….well….” He choked over his own words. “Th-there’s not that….m-ma-many-”

    Oh, damn, he thought. Now I get to cry my fucking eyes out…

    She stopped suddenly. He did not notice, was eager to get out of her earshot. Blinking furiously, he walked for several more feet before he felt the familiar hot tears spill onto his cheeks, at which point he stopped as well.

    He was glad she had left. He did not want her to have to watch him bawling his eyeballs out, or to have to face her afterwards….

    “Harry.”

    He felt a familiar pair of hands on his shoulders and looked up.

    “Oh, Harry….” said Hermione, flinging her arms around his neck. Normally he would have tried to pry her off, or at least have adopted a horrified expression, but instead he wrapped his arms around her and stood there, rocking back and forth on the spot, eyes streaming.

                        ~

    Quite some time later - Harry was not sure just how much time had passed - Hermione leaned away from him and whispered, “Better?”

    He nodded slowly. He knew it was only temporary, knew he would dream about Sirius’s teen years that night, but he didn’t care.

    “Come on,” she said softly. They pulled apart and made their way back toward the castle. His hand found hers and took it in his own….

    “Are you going to be okay tonight, Harry?” she asked quietly when they had reached the common room.

    He forced himself to nod but did not move his feet. He felt paralyzed, vulnerable, and yet glad to have gotten everything out. He sensed her return to his side.

    “Should I stay down here with you?”

    He wanted that, wanted it more than anything, to be with someone, but he shook his head very slightly. “N- no. I think I’ll just go upstairs,” he said. And yet he still remained stationary.

    “Well, we’d better get you up there, then,” she said gently. She put an arm around him and slowly - very slowly - he walked toward the stairs. She steered him upwards, could sense his urge to collapse.

    “Here we are,” she whispered, opening the door with a tiny creak and maneuvering him across the room.

    “Thank you,” he mumbled as he fell into bed and she pulled the hangings around the bed shut. She kissed him lightly on the eyebrow and left with a small smile….

                    ~

    “Moony, I’m serious, I am not joking.”

    Remus Lupin raised a thin eyebrow. “Is it possible? Can Sirius Black truly ever not be joking?”

    “I’m serious. It’s important,” he whined. His face looked uncharacteristically strained and worried.

    “Alright, Padfoot, alright,” said Remus in a slightly concerned voice. “What happened?”

    Sirius took a deep breath and looked around them to see if any other students were watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice. They weren’t. “Okay….Remember a few weeks ago, when all of us were drunk? And James convinced Lily to come up there with us?”

    Remus nodded, fine eyebrows running together.

    “Now, before I keep going, you have to know that I’d never do anything to hurt you. You do know that, don’t you?”

    Lupin nodded again, confused.

    “Okay….so…..what happened. You see, after Wormtail crashed, the rest of us stayed awake, remember?”

    “Didn’t you throw up on somebody before that?”

    Sirius gave a short laugh. “No, that was Peter….So anyway, you’ll remember me and you - er - ….well….yeah. And you fell asleep after that.”

    “Right….then what?”

    Sirius took another huge breath. He had gone extremely pale. “Right….well I-er-I didn’t go to sleep then, exactly,” he said.

    “So?”

    “Er….well, then James fell asleep.”

    “Alright….”

    “And….well….you know how I am. I don’t just drink one, I have to down the whole crate, practically.”

    Remus laughed softly, and a grin flitted across Sirius‘s face. “I know,” Remus said.

    “So….well, Lily was awake too. And let me tell you, for someone who didn’t want to come in the first place, she sure drank enough.”

    He waited for a moment, hoping Remus would laugh that silvery laugh that made his heart skip a beat and his stomach flip, but it didn’t come. Remus was sitting straight up beside him, eyes narrowed.

    “And….er….you know how it is…..One thing lead to another….”

    “Don’t tell me,” said Remus.

    Sirius’s pale face flushed for a moment before settling back into its ashen state. “Er….so, I was just talking to Lily. And she thinks….she thinks….she thinks she’s pregnant, Remus.”

    Remus choked. “Well, maybe it’s James’s,” he said reasonably.

    Sirius shook his head dejectedly. “It can’t be….They haven’t.”

    Remus coughed. “So have you told James?”

    “No way and I’m never going to!” yelped Sirius.

    “But he’s going to guess when she tells him she’s pregnant.”

    “No. She said there’s this Muggle thing, it’s called ‘abortion’.”

    “What’s that?” asked Remus, the shock slowly subsiding from his mind.

    “It terminates the pregnancy.”

    “No way. You can’t just kill some baby just because you screwed up,” said Remus, with a touch of anger in his voice.

    Sirius sighed. “It’s her decision.”

    “I bet you didn’t argue the point, though, did you?”

    “Well-”

    “Hey, Black!”

    Sirius and Remus looked up to see James hovering above them on his broom.

    Sirius flushed again. “Yeah?”

    “I hear you knocked up my girl!” he called down.

    Sirius’s face turned, if possible, even redder.

    “I’d like an explanation, if you don’t mind!”

    “Well, er-”

    “Oh, that’s okay, no need-” James seized the Quaffle that the team had been passing to one another and hurled it as hard as he could at Sirius’s face. The color drained from Sirius’s face as it hit him squarely on the nose, which immediately began to bleed and appeared broken.

    Remus grabbed the Quaffle. “He was drunk, James!” he yelled imploringly as he threw the Quaffle back to James.

    James ignored Remus but continued to yell down at Sirius, who had a hand over his nose and was white as paper. “Oh yeah - when me and Lily have our own kids we’ll name you godfather since you’ll never get any of your own, you bastard.”

                        ~

    “Harry!”

    Harry sat up. He was cold and sweat-soaked. He had absolutely no idea why a dream could have affected him like this, except for the fact that he did not want to spend the time trying to convince himself his mum was decent. Not as much time as it had taken after seeing Snape’s memory of his father, anyway….

    “Are you all right?”

    He shook his head.

    “Did you have a You-Know-Who nightmare this time?”

    He shook his head again.

    “What was it, then?”

    Harry thought he was going to be sick but managed to get a few words out before he collapsed onto the pillows. “Get….Hermione.”

    “Okay, mate,” said Ron in an odd voice. There was a soft creaking noise on the other side of the room. “Oh - she’s here already,” he said, halfway to the door.

    Harry forced his head up far enough to see Hermione approaching his bed with Crookshanks in her arms.

    “I heard noises,” she said quietly to Neville, who was peering at Harry from the foot of the bed.

    “He had a nightmare, I think,” said Neville.

    “It wasn’t about Voldemort, was it?” said Hermione. Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus all flinched collectively.

    Harry choked, “No….it was about….my dad….and Remus….and….Sirius.”

    She rubbed his shoulder a little. “Do you want to talk about it?”

    His eyes darted around the room, taking in Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. He shook his head.

    She looked sympathetically down at him, then at the others. “Would you mind leaving us alone for a moment, please?”

    Neville, Dean, and Seamus left quietly. Ron, however, stayed put beside Harry. “You too, Ron,” she said.

    “Why me? I’m his best friend!”

    “Because-” She glanced back down at Harry, who still looked ill. She got up and whispered something into Ron‘s ear. Ron nodded grudgingly and left.

    “What….what did you say to him?”

    She shook her head slightly. “What was the dream about?”

    He hesitated for a moment. You can tell her, said an annoying voice in his mind. You’ve already cried in front of her…best get it all out in the open.

    “Er….well, same as before….last year at Hogwarts.” He still felt sick….

    “Don’t lie, Harry,” she said reprovingly. “What was so bad about this one?”

    He gulped. “I- I….dreamed….that my mum and Sirius….er - well….did it together….during their seventh year.” And he told her the details of the dream.

    Her eyes widened for a moment and then returned to their normal size. “It was just a dream, Harry,” she said soothingly.

    “But….I dunno if it was….It seemed so real….Like maybe it did happen….”

    “Sirius would never do something like that, not if his best friend was dating her.”

    Harry made a small noise in his throat.

    “Sorry?”

    “It’s just….you said it yourself, last year.”

    “What did I say?” she asked.

    “Reckless.”

    “Harry….I didn’t mean that Sirius was like that. I know he’d never purposely hurt anyone, especially James.”

    “But what if it really did happen?”

    “Well….even if it did, your mum still married your dad. Sirius obviously patched it up with them….and you can’t blame your mum, really….You probably didn’t notice, but Sirius was quite - er - good looking.”

    Harry gave a small, half irritated, half surprised snort.

    “Well, its true!” she said defensively.

    “I s‘pose….” Harry said, surprised all the same that she had thought so. He had never really thought about it and couldn’t picture Hermione doing so either…

    “Look, if you’re really that bothered, just ask Lupin this evening during your Occlumency lesson. I’m sure he’ll answer.”

    Harry groaned. “He’ll just think I’m stupid.”    

    “When has he ever thought you were stupid?” she asked.

    He sighed but didn’t speak.

    “Are you sure you’re up to Occlumency? I’m sure Dumbledore and Professor Lupin would understand if you had to skip tonight,” she said softly.

    “I’ll be alright….”

    “I’m sure you will.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs, all right?”

    

                        ~

    “Are you all right there, Harry? You seem awfully quiet,” said Professor Lupin.    

    Harry hitched his fake smile back into place. “I’m fine, Professor. Let’s get started.”

    “Alright,” said Lupin, still looking worried. “On three….. One - Two - Three - Legilimens!”

    Harry’s defenses weren’t half so good as they normally were….Dementors were looking up at him from the Quidditch pitch….He was falling….The black dog in the stands….Umbridge’s hand was groping in the fireplace….His hand was oozing blood….He was sobbing into Hermione’s shoulder….His father was chucking the Quaffle at Sirius….Lupin was yelling, “He was drunk, James!”….Sirius was explaining about abortion-

    He felt the spell ease up and disappear, but he was almost positive he had not caused it to stop. He looked slowly up from the floor, where he had fallen, to see a particularly pale adult Remus Lupin gazing unblinkingly at him.

    “Erm,”

    “How- how did you come by that last memory?”

    Harry gulped. “I dreamed it.”

    “You - You dreamed it?”

    Harry nodded slowly.

    Lupin looked at Harry as though he had never seen him before. Then he said, “I think we’ll leave it here, for tonight, Harry.” He stuck out his hand to pull Harry back to his feet, but Harry didn’t take it.

    “What? But it’s only been a few minutes; we’re supposed to practice for an hour!” He had no idea why he was trying to convince Lupin to keep practicing; he couldn’t stand the lessons, even with Lupin teaching.

    “I think you need to rest, Harry. You look ill.”

    Harry grabbed the hand Lupin was still holding out for him and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

    “Well, good-bye, Harry. I’ll see you next week,” said Lupin, patting him on the shoulder and turning to the door with a very strange expression on his face.

    “It was real, wasn’t it?”

    Lupin stopped dead. Without turning, he said, “What?”

    “The dream I had….It was real, wasn’t it?”

    “Real? I should think not! You know Sirius would never do something like that,” he said, turning around to face Harry.

    Harry fixed him with dubious stare. “I thought I did.”

    Lupin made no response except to blink.

    “But if it’s not real, why can’t we keep practicing?”

    Lupin stared hard at him for a long moment before saying, “Sit down.”

    “What?”

    “You were so keen to know the truth a minute ago,” said Lupin. “So if you still do, you can sit down and I’ll tell you.”

    Harry sat down in the chair Lupin indicated, but Remus did not sit. Instead he paced across the room several time before coming to a halt in front of Harry.

    “Now understand this, Harry, because it’s very important: Sirius never meant to hurt anyone.”

    Harry’s eyebrows ran together.

    “You want to know the truth, Harry? Okay, then. It happened. It’s real. Everything in it, every word, every action….everything.”

    Harry almost fell off the chair but caught himself. “It‘s….real?” he croaked.

    Lupin nodded. Noticing that Harry looked as if he had a question he was dying to ask, he added, “Lily got the abortion.”

    Harry’s shock changed quickly into anger. “Did anyone ever intend to tell me?” he said loudly.

    Lupin looked down. “Lily and James said that they would tell you when they thought you were ready.”

    “Guess no one ever thought that I was mature enough to handle it, huh?” said Harry icily.

    “Last year, Sirius wanted to. He said he wanted to come clean about it, in case anything ever happened to him. But I told him it would be too much, what with Voldemort’s return and that foul Umbridge woman running around.”

    Harry glared at Lupin. “Pwoor wittle baby Harry wouldn’t bwe wable twoo

take it….” he said, in an uncanny imitation of Bellatrix’s baby voice. The thought brought waves of cold fury tumbling over him.

    “You were already questioning the decency of James! I didn’t think you needed to worry about Lily’s and Sirius’s morality too!” Lupin’s voice was rising steadily.

    Harry stared. Then he leapt from the chair, and, brushing past Lupin, said, “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

    Once in the corridor and away from Lupin, he felt his anger subside somewhat. Maybe they had been right in not telling him….It was a hell of a lot harder to stay mad at Sirius when he was dead….Of course, he hadn’t even been mad at Sirius to begin with….

    I think I’ll go tell Hermione…he thought. Yeah…

    “…is that him?”

    “…maybe….”

    Harry stopped. He was quite sure he had heard voices around the corner. Drawing nearer, he tried to walk as softly as he could so he could hear, but the words were indistinct, jumbled, and whispered.    

    He rounded the corner. Standing there, heads together, were a pair of dark-haired teenagers.

    Oh. My. God, said a voice in his mind.

    Th- there’s no way! said the other voice, for once not being argumentative.

    The teenagers looked up just as Harry passed out.

    “I think we’d better go.”

                        ~

    Harry opened his eyes. Everything was strangely blurry….He automatically groped for his glasses beside him, but his hands didn’t touch anything….

    “Looking for these?” said a familiar voice. Harry felt a hand brush his own and realized that the other one was holding his glasses, which he took and put on.

    He was in the hospital wing. Hermione was standing beside him, looking concerned. Ron was peering at him from the foot of the bed. His hair was severely windblown and his Cleansweep 11 was over his shoulder.

    “Is he coming round yet?”

    Harry saw a short, squat witch - Madam Pomfrey - hurrying over to him.

    “Just now, in fact,” said Hermione softly.

    Madam Pomfrey elbowed Ron out of the way as she made towards Harry with a goblet and a small bottle of electric blue potion.

    “Hold this,” she said in a businesslike manner, shoving the goblet in Hermione’s hands. Hermione took it and held it steady as Madam Pomfrey dumped the entire contents of the bottle into it.

    “Drink this,” she commanded Harry, forcing the goblet into his hands. Harry lifted it to his mouth, paused, then lowered it again.

    “Why am I here?”

    She frowned at him. “Miss Granger here found you passed out a short way from Professor Lupin’s office. I thought it best that you remain here for a bit.”

    “I passed out?”

    Hermione nodded. “I took you up here when I found you, and then went to go and get Ron.”

    Then Harry remembered - he had seen those two teenagers, that’s what had made him pass out. But - there was absolutely no way that they could really have been there.

    “You need to drink your potion, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said reprovingly. “It’ll give you back your strength. Those lessons you’ve been having with Professor Lupin can be quite draining, you know.”

    “That’s not why I passed out,” Harry said bluntly.

    She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? And would you like to tell us what did cause you to?”

    “Er….well - er - no.”

    Her eyebrows seemed in danger of disappearing into her hair.

    “No?”

    Harry gulped. There was nothing else for it - he’d have to tell her and just make sure he left out the details. “I had a - er….a - I think it was a - a hallucination.”

    “A hallucination.”

    “It’s just - I saw these people, you know? But, there’s no way they could be there….” he said, careful not to meet Ron or Hermione’s eyes.

    She thought for a second and then said, as if remembering something from years ago, “Oh! Dumbledore told me something like this might happen. Just drink your potion, Mr. Potter, and I’m sure you’ll be alright.”

    “But what about - about what I saw?”

    “Just drink your potion,” she said in a tone that told Harry she thought him impertinent, and bustled off.

                        ~

    “These - hallucinations,” said Hermione late that evening, back in the common room. “What - I mean, who - are they?”

    “My dad and Sirius.” said Harry calmly. It was eerie, the way he could talk about these hallucinations so coolly. Normally, he was quite sure he would have been hyperventilating

    Hermione choked. “What?”

    “They were my dad and Sirius. As teenagers.” Hermione’s eyes were wide with shock. “Yeah, I know,” Harry sighed.

    “But - but what….but what did Madam Pomfrey mean, Dumbledore told her something like that might happen?”

    Harry shrugged. The same thought had been troubling him ever since Madam Pomfrey had spoken the words. He also wondered why on earth he had been let out of the hospital wing at all with the hallucinations. Not that he minded, but it just did not fit in with Madam Pomfrey’s past record.

    “You don’t think this has got something to do with the Order, do you?” said Hermione.

    “They weren’t there, though, Hermione.” This was all starting to get more and more confusing….

    “Oh, I don’t know,” she said in an exasperated voice. “Maybe you should go back to Madam Pomfrey and ask her what she meant….”

    “Hermione, you’re brilliant!” said Harry.

    “Wh- what?”

    “You’re brilliant! Dumbledore! I’ll ask him about it!”

    “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea-” began Hermione, but Harry had already thrown his arms around her and said, “Thanks, Herm!”

    He was at the portrait hole when he stopped. “Herm?”

    “Yeah?” she asked, turning in her chair to see him.

    “Wanna come?”

    She thought for a moment. Best if he has someone with him in case he’s making a mistake…or if he passes out again…

    “Alright.”

    Halfway to Dumbledore’s office, Harry stopped again.

    “What’re you doing?”

    “Shhh! Listen-” he whispered.

    “….close call….”

    “….too right.”

    “….suspect….”

    “What?”

    “Listen!” he said, pulling her over by him. She listened with all her might.

    “I can’t hear anything, Harry.”

    He gave her an odd look. “I suppose I’m just hallucinating again.”

    They moved forward. Harry was not really watching where he was going, but following Hermione….

    “Ow!” he exclaimed. She had, for some inexplicable reason, stopped dead.

    “Wha-?” he began, but then he saw it.

    Teenage Sirius and James had rounded the corner opposite them. They had halted too, and were gazing at Harry and Hermione.

    “What’s wrong, Herm? I’m hallucinating; you can’t see them.”

    “I can,” she whispered. Harry was thunderstruck.    

    Sirius and James moved forward. There was an oddity to the way they walked; it was almost as though they were floating.

    Sirius stopped in front of Harry and Hermione. “Harry. It’s nice to see you again,” he said with a pleasant smile.

                        ~

    Harry’s jaw dropped. “Herm,” he said urgently, elbowing her in the ribs. “Herm, can you-”

    “I- I think so….” she said faintly.

    “Ah! And Hermione!” said Sirius cheerfully. “How are you?”

    Hermione’s mouth moved, but no words came out. Sirius turned to teenage-James.

    “This is Hermione Granger, James,” he said, indicating Hermione. “And this,” he said proudly as he gestured towards Harry, “Is your son.”

    “Long time no see,” said James lightly. He studied Harry for a moment. “You’re right Sirius, the resemblance is uncanny.” He grinned. “Nice to see you’ve got my good-looks….” Sirius rolled his eyes.

    “Told you so,” said teenage Sirius. “Except-”

    “Ah, I see - except for the eyes! You have Lily’s eyes,” he added, tilting his head to one side. “She’ll be very pleased.”

    Harry wanted to ask what was going on, but couldn’t find the words. Instead he adopted an odd half-smile that made him look utterly confused.

    Sirius laughed and said, “That is the most genuine James Potter-expression I have ever seen on you!”, to which James cast him a sardonic glare.

    Harry was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open again. He closed it. There was a long silence in which Harry and Hermione gawked at James and Sirius, and James and Sirius watched Harry and Hermione.

    Then Hermione spoke. “How - When - What - How….”

    Sirius and James both laughed. “Talk much, Hermione?” said Sirius.

    She gave a sheepish grin. “It’s just - well - how….I mean, you’re….” She looked extremely uncomfortable.

    “Dead?” said Sirius with a another chuckle. “Yeah, we are.”

    Harry looked down. He had rather thought Sirius had tried to catch his eye.

    “Wh- what….what’re you doing here? I mean….how….or, why….?” gibbered Hermione.

    “We’re here for your protection,” said Sirius with a mock-salute.

    Harry and Hermione gazed weakly at them. Harry thought James looked nervous but didn’t mention it.

    “No, seriously, we are,” said Sirius. “Dumbledore sent us.”

    “What are you?” said Harry rather rudely, which caused Sirius to laugh yet again and James to take on a very pleased expression.

    “Illusion of the Dead,” James said.

    Harry started to ask what that was, but was interrupted by Hermione saying in an excited voice, “Are you really? I’ve read all about that-”

    He caught James’s eye and grinned shyly. Then he was seized by a fit of laughter at the look James had assumed when Hermione began her speech and had to look away.

    “-and is it true that you can control everything that the illusion does, and that only some people ever get the chance to become illusions?” Hermione went on.

    Sirius was nodding in a amused but bored way.

    “Really, Hermione, give them a chance to breathe,” Harry said. Then he blushed scarlet. “I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean-”

    “It’s alright, really, Harry,” said Sirius, though he looked odd when he said it.

    “So, what did you mean, you’re here to protect us?” asked Harry awkwardly.

    Sirius looked relieved to change the subject. “Well, most spells rebound off of us, and the ones that don’t are at the very least slowed down a lot, so Dumbledore wants us to sort of be your bodyguards.”

    Harry could think of two significant problems here and didn’t know which one to voice first, but Hermione beat him to it anyway.

    “But…if everyone can see you, people are going to wonder how you got here,” said Hermione.

    “Don’t worry about that, we can go invisible too.” said Sirius happily, a wide grin stretching his face. “Dumbledore said that we should at least look like teenagers, though, so if we get separated from you and have to chance visibility, we’ll blend in.”    

    Harry decided to voice the other trouble. “Why do I need bodyguards?”

    Sirius’s smile faded. “Dark times, Harry,” was all he said.

    Harry blinked but didn’t speak, and neither did Hermione.

    “Dumbledore said we can stay up in your dorm, if you don’t mind, Harry,” said James eventually.

    Harry’s glum expression evaporated almost instantly. “Great! Wait ‘till I tell Ron!”

    Sirius smiled. “Mind you, we don’t really need a place to sleep, seeing as how we’re illusions and all, but then you need us around 24/7, and it can take weeks to actually procure an illusion, so it should he fun.”

    “Well, lets go then,” said Harry happily, and all four of them set off toward Gryffindor tower, all thoughts of questioning Dumbledore driven from Harry’s mind.

                        ~

    “Goodnight, Hermione,” Harry said as they parted in the common room.

    “Night,” she whispered. She looked as though she wanted to say something else, but her eyes flickered onto James and Sirius and she apparently thought better of it.

    When they got up to Harry’s dorm, James exclaimed loudly, “Sirius - isn’t this our dorm?”

    Ron sat up with a jolt as Sirius nodded. “Oh - Harry,” said Ron. “Where were you?”

    Harry beckoned Sirius and James, who had been lurking in the shadows, forward. Ron’s eyes widened in confusion.

    “Who?” he said. He blinked to clear his vision and studied James. “Who’s the twin?” he said stupidly.

    Harry laughed at the same time James did, and for the first time that night Harry realized that they had almost identical laughs.

    “This is my dad, Ron.”

    Ron’s shock turned into pity. “Harry, your dad’s - well - er - dead.”

    “I know!” Harry said indignantly. “This is an illusion of him - an illusion of the dead.”

    Ron looked utterly confused. When Harry didn’t explain, he pointed at Sirius. “Who’s that, then?” He contemplated Sirius for a moment. “He looks strangely familiar.”

    Sirius snorted. “Don’t you recognize me, Ron?” he asked, stepping forward.

    Ron’s eyebrows ran together. “Ought I?”

    “I should think so!” said teenage-Sirius indignantly.

    Ron stared hard at Sirius, but apparently he still didn’t recognize him. “It’s not coming back. I could swear I‘ve seen him before, though.”

    “It's Sirius,” said Harry.

    “Erm - Harry?” said Ron, after studying Sirius for several moments.

    “Yeah?”

    “There’s no way in hell that’s Sirius.” said Ron. “It just doesn’t look quite like him.”

    “This is what he looked like as a teenager.”

    Ron stared. Then, not taking his eyes off James and Sirius, he said, “What’s this “Illusion of the Dead” thing?”

    “Well, to tell the truth - I don’t really-”

    “An illusion of a deceased wizard that can walk on Earth and is controlled by the dead,” piped James. “Quite exciting actually, only some people ever get a chance to - I’ve been wanting to for ages…but you can only do it if you have real purpose…” He sighed. “I spent years trying to do it by saying I needed to tell you how to get the Marauder’s Map, but apparently that wasn’t a real ‘purpose’….” He sniffed. “Padfoot tells me you managed to get a hold of it anyway, thanks to Arthur Weasley‘s sons.” He grinned as Harry nodded. “It’s bloody brilliant, isn’t it?”

    His son nodded brightly.

    “Why are they here?” asked Ron.

    Harry made a face. “They’re my bodyguards,” he said. “They repel spells and stuff…”

    “Why do they look like teenagers? They didn’t look like that when they - ?” asked Ron somewhat awkwardly.

    “They blend in with the crowd better that way,” said Harry happily. “But they can go invisible too.”

    “But - but….wow.” said Ron.

    Harry turned to James and Sirius. “You don’t sleep, do you?”

    Sirius shook his head. “Nope. We’d just sink right through a bed, too, so we can’t do that either.”

    “Where are you going to stay? Surely you aren’t going to just hover there all night?”

    Sirius nodded sadly. “We’re bodyguards, and you need us around all the time.”

    Harry tried not to groan or make a face. “I’m going to go to sleep, alright?”

    They nodded.

    “I’ll introduce you to Seamus, Dean, and-” he yawned hugely. “Neville in the morning.”

    “Neville?” said James. “Neville Longbottom - not Frank and Alice’s son?”

    Harry nodded. “The very same.”

    “Goodnight,” said Sirius.

    “Night,” echoed James.

    And Harry fell asleep….

                        ~

    “He didn’t want to hurt anyone, James!” said Lupin exasperatedly. “Can’t you understand that?”

    “Like hell he didn’t!” shouted James. “He hurt everybody, Remus, everybody! Me, Lily, you, himself!”

    Remus sighed. “But he was drunk, and so was Lily, and he can’t be blamed for doing something when he was that drunk.” He wanted to add, “And Lily’s half to blame, anyway,” but thought better of it.

    “And I don’t give a flying rat’s ass!” bellowed James. People around the common room were starting to stare.

    “Oh, right. You’ve never done something wrong when you were drunk,” said Remus sardonically.

    “That’s right!”

    Remus groaned under his breath. “Let me remind you then….Fourth year, you thought it would be - er - funny, to hang me by my ankles out of the dormitory window.”

    James became very interested in the fingernails on his left hand and looked down to hide the pink creeping up his cheeks.

    “But I didn’t blame you, not even when you dropped me and Sirius caught me just in time,” he went on calmly. “because you were drunk.”

    “But that’s different-” began James, but Remus continued on without comment.

    “Fifth year….you and Peter decided to sneak Sleeping Draught into Sirius’s and my drinks, then shave our eyebrows off while we were asleep. It was the night before the Yule Ball, if I recall correctly.”

    James was now scarlet in the face. “That’s not the same, though-” he started again, but Remus overrode him once more.

    “Sixth year….you bewitched all my quills the night before exams. I should also point out that I would have failed half my exams if Sirius hadn’t had a spare quill on him.

    “This year-” he went on, but James had gotten the point.

    “Okay, so maybe I have done some stupid things. But all that stuff is simple, little, unimportant. This is big, and it’s hurt us all.”

    “It doesn’t matter how much worse you think it is, James.” Remus said calmly. “You don’t mean to do any of it. But you do.” He sighed. “I rather think plummeting headfirst from the top of Gryffindor Tower would be worse than your girlfriend having your best friend’s baby, myself, and we’ve avoided both of those - er - unpleasant situations.”

    James was wearing an odd look, somewhere between a scowl, a frown, and deep skepticism.

    “But if you want to go on like this for forever, not speaking to your best friend, fine by me. Knock yourself out.” He turned on his heel and marched off towards the corner of the common room where Sirius stood, face shadowed.

    “Wait - Remus!”

    Remus turned to see James wearing a very anguished expression. “Yeah?” he asked, somewhat more coldly than he meant to.

    “Listen….you’re right,” he said softly. Sirius was watching intently from his corner, straining to hear.

    “I know I am,” Remus said in a snappish voice.

    “And I….I….” Whatever James was trying to say seemed to be costing him a great deal. “I’m sorry,” he finished meekly.

    Remus raised his eyebrows. “Wow. So you finally lowered yourself to actually apologize to someone else.”

    James looked down.

    “It’s not me you ought to be apologizing to, you know,” said Remus. “I’m not the one you haven’t spoken to in almost a month.”

    

                        ~

    Harry woke with a jolt to find the dormitory deserted except for three figures. Hermione was sitting beside him, watching him with a concerned expression on her face. When she saw he was awake, she quickly pulled her hand back and their fingers unlaced.

    Sirius and James were hovering slightly behind her, looking worried.

    “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

    He nodded while whispering so quietly that only she could hear, “I had another dream.”

    “That’s good,” she said in a loud voice, then added in an undertone, “What about?”

    Harry thought for a moment and then said, “I had a dream about you,” before muttering, “No, actually it was about the three of them again.”

    It was getting hard to continue the conversation without James and Sirius hearing. Hermione thought for a minute as well and then said, “Awww, that’s so sweet!” and threw her arms around his neck. “Was it as bad as the other one?” she whispered.

    Harry was surprised at how she had kept the conversation going, but didn’t move except to mumble, “No,” in her ear.

    He glanced up and saw Sirius and James smirking good-naturedly down at them.

    “I dunno how we’re going to get a chance to talk about it with them around,” she muttered.

    Harry whispered, “I guess like this,” into her ear.

                        ~

    

Five Months Later…

    “This is so weird,” Harry whispered to Hermione as they walked together through the dark grounds.

    “Yeah, I know,” she said.

    “I mean, I have no idea where they are. Are they even near us?”

    “We’re right here, mate,” came a voice from Harry’s right. Hermione and Harry jumped.

    Sirius and James materialized on either side of Harry. “Sorry,” said James. “We were just trying to give you two lovebirds some privacy….”

    “But we weren’t listening, though,” Sirius said in an innocent voice that fooled no one.

    “Yeah right,” said Harry sarcastically.

    “Well, I wasn’t, at any rate,” said James.

    Sirius snorted.

    “Not much, then,” amended James.

    Harry raised his eyebrows.

    “Alright, alright! So I was listening! But it’s so sweet….”

    Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re just friends….”

    Hermione stopped dead. Harry didn’t notice at first, not until he caught the way James and Sirius were looking from Hermione to Harry.

    He turned around. “What’s wrong, Herm?”

    “Just friends!” she said loudly. “Just friends?”

    “Hermione, what-”

    “Is that all you think I am? Just your book-worm-always-studying-ugly-little-friend?”

    “This looks bad,” Sirius said to James.

    “But I - I thought….” Harry stuttered.

    “Yeah? What did you think?” Hermione asked coldly. Her words sliced through the air. “Or did you just not think at all, is that it?”

    “I - I, well, I thought….I thought you wanted it this way….”

    “You thought that I wanted it this way?”

    “I - I - I-”

    “Oh, I give up!” she yelled. And then she stomped away across the dark grounds.

    “Hermione, wait!” he called after her, but she didn’t turn and her figure soon dissolved into darkness.

    He sank to the ground. How could he have been so stupid? Hadn’t it been obvious she wanted more than just a friendship? Was he always going to be so horrible with girls?

    “Harry-” began Sirius, but Harry cut him off.

    “I am such an idiot!”

    “No, you’re not,” said Sirius quietly. “She’ll have cooled down by the morning, and then she’ll be all over you again.”

    “No she won’t.”

    “Harry, I really think I’m right this time.”

    “Well I don’t-”

    “Really, Harry,” James said. “Sirius knows things. He just has that natural talent with women, you know? He’s very good at giving advice.”    

    “How would you know?” Harry asked bitterly.

    Sirius and James laughed, laughed so loudly that Harry was quite shocked. “Because-” James choked “He gave me - quite a lot of it when we were at school.” Sirius was still snickering.

    And something clicked on in Harry’s head. “It wasn’t that great, though, was it?”

    They stopped laughing abruptly. “What?”

    “I mean, he left some important details out when he was advising you, didn’t he?”

    “What did I leave out?” Sirius asked. He sounded both utterly confused and rather indignant as well.

    “Like the part about not sleeping around, maybe?”

    James paled immediately. Sirius, in contrast, turned a brilliant shade of crimson. They glanced at each other before Sirius said, in a rather defeated tone, “What do you mean?”

    “I mean, you never told him not to sleep his best friend’s girlfriend-” He paused for a moment, savoring their horrified expressions. “But of course, that would be because you did the very thing, wouldn‘t it?”

    James’s mouth was hanging open. Sirius looked rather nauseous.

    “Imagine a wizard getting drunk with his best friend’s girlfriend, and then getting her pregnant. It’d take a lot of nerve, don’t you agree?” he asked coldly. Sirius nodded meekly. “And then imagine her having to get an abortion.” He glanced at James and saw that he was glaring daggers at Sirius, so Harry changed tack.

    “And imagine this wizard’s best friend naming him godfather to his own son, but only doing it out of spite.” James went pink.

    “You - you - you meant it?” Sirius stammered, his eyes now glassy. “You meant it? You only named me as - as Harry’s godfather because of - of that?”

    James had turned a fairly unflattering shade of green. “It’s not like that, Sirius-” he began, but Sirius cut him off.

    “You know what, I don’t care what sorry excuse you have.” He was breathing fast and blinking furiously. “You can go now. I’ll watch Harry.”

    Harry took a step back, his mouth slightly open and the beginnings of guilt in his mind. He didn’t speak, but decided to stop the argument as soon as he could…

    “If you don’t like it, you can go. I’m his father.”

    Sirius laughed, but it wasn’t the bark-like one Harry knew so well; it was high and bitter. “Yes, but you see, he hardly knows you. I’ve been there for him for a few good years while you’ve been dead.”

    James looked incredibly shocked that Sirius would even think of using this against him. He moved his mouth noiselessly several times, then said finally, “I died protecting him, you fool.”

    Sirius laughed again. “But you know it did no good! That’s not what saved him - it was Lily!”

    James went as red as Ron’s hair but didn’t seem to be capable to speech.

    “There was no point in your dying, none at all, except to part Harry from his father and to put me in Azkaban for 12 years! I went after Wormtail to avenge your death, and this is how you repay me?”

    “You’re dead too, and to what avail?”

    “I died protecting my godson!”

    Harry felt him stomach twist. It had been his fault Sirius had died…

    “And what good did it do?” James asked in a mocking tone. “Because it sure as hell didn’t help him!”

    “There are things worth dying for!” Sirius shouted back. It wasn’t the first time Harry had heard him say it, and he felt himself go pink at the thought that Sirius thought he, Harry, was worth dying for.

     “That’s my damn point!” James yelled.

    Sirius opened his mouth to retaliate but Harry cut across him. “No - no, please - please, just stop - stop. I - I’m sorry I mentioned it….”

    Sirius looked back at James and nodded curtly. James returned the action with a small half-smile.

    “How did you find out?” Sirius asked, but Harry was already sprinting away in the direction Hermione had gone.

                        ~

    When Harry found Hermione, she was sprawled on her back with her arms and legs sticking out at odd angles. Her eyes were shut, and a dark bruise was forming around her right eye. Her nose appeared broken and looked as though it had been bleeding recently. She had a cut across her lip and had bruises all over. There was a nasty looking red burn on her leg; Harry could see where her robes had been singed. Her wand was still clutched in her hand. Harry guessed that she had fought with someone, and it looked as though they had gotten her with the purple flame curse Dolohov had used in the Department of Mysteries, only this time it had been used to it’s full effect.

    He wasn’t sure if she was even alive, but he hoisted her off the ground and began trudging back to the school. When he reached the door to the hospital wing he pounded as hard as he could on it but it wouldn’t open. He yanked out his wand and muttered “Alohamora” at the knob, and the door swung open immediately.

    He heaved her further up on his shoulder and entered. There was a bed at the end of the ward; he half-carried, half-dragged her limp form to it and laid her, as gently as he could, onto it. And then he sat down in the chair next to her.

    It never really occurred to Harry to go and fetch Madam Pomfrey. The same three words kept playing and replaying in Harry’s mind: It’s your fault.

    He could hear invisible James and Sirius muttering to each other behind him. He didn’t even bother trying to listen.

    It’s your fault.

    It’s your fault.

    If he hadn’t been so stupid, she never would have left. If he hadn’t wasted so much time making James and Sirius argue, he could have reached her before any of it happened….

    It’s your fault.

    It’s your fault.

    It’s your fault.

    He felt a tiny spark of curiosity deep inside him (Who had she fought with, anyway?), but it was soon extinguished.

    It’s your fault, he thought sleepily. He realized that hot tears were streaming down his face but didn’t bother to wipe them away….

                    ~

    “Well, that’s that, then,” James said, sticking out his hand for Sirius to shake. Sirius took it somewhat awkwardly, and then James gave him a brief hug before turning away with his face rather pink and muttering, “Why did I just do that? Now I feel stupid…” under his breath.

    Remus laughed, and Sirius turned around to look at him. He hesitated for a moment, then hugged him tightly while saying, “All down to you, mate.”

    Remus pulled slightly away from Sirius so that their noses were touching and smiled.

    “You know,” Sirius said slyly, “I think this good behavior of mine just now merits some -” he leaned closer to Remus so that their lips were almost touching. “-rewards?”

    Remus grinned. “I think so too.” He kissed Sirius softly on the mouth.

    James made a loud fake-barfing noise.

    “Awww, shut up, Prongs,” Remus said. “If you can’t take the heat-” he kissed Sirius again “-you might want to leave.”

    James grinned. “I can’t take this kind of heat, at any rate,” he said as he left the room.

    Sirius sighed contentedly. “It’s nice to know everything’s back to normal.”

    Remus kissed the tip of Sirius’s nose. “I don’t know about that.”

    “It is for now,” Sirius said, his arms around Remus, pulling him closer.

    Remus smiled. “It is,”

    

                        ~

    “Mr. Potter!”

    Harry opened his eyes sleepily. He was still sitting in his chair, but his head was leaning right onto Hermione’s pillow. His glasses were still on. Light was streaming into the ward.

    “Mr. Potter!” Madam Pomfrey shrieked again, and Harry sat up.

    “What are you doing here?”

    “I found Hermione like this last night-” he yawned. “I think she dueled with someone….”

    “Is that so? And what makes you think that?”

    “I mean, look at-” he started, but before he could speak another word Madam Pomfrey had let out a very loud gasp.

    “What on earth?!”

    “I think-” Harry began, but Madam Pomfrey was already checking Hermione over and muttering things like, “Very bad,” under her breath.

    “Will she be okay?” Harry asked anxiously.

    Madam Pomfrey fixed him with a sad stare. “I flatter myself that I have spent over half of my life healing patients…but I don’t know Mr. Potter….I don’t know.”

    Harry sighed and stared miserably at Hermione. He could now see that she was breathing. Breathing very shallowly and raggedly, but breathing all the same.

    “Should we go and fetch Dumbledore?” said a voice from behind Harry. He jumped; Sirius and James had materialized behind him.

    He looked around at Madam Pomfrey and was surprised to see her beaming. “Mr. James Potter!” She let out a tiny laugh. “And Mr. Sirius Black as well!”

    They grinned at her. “Hello, Poppy,” said James.

    She giggled. “I wondered when I’d be seeing you, ever since Albus mentioned you had managed to procure illusions….You had poor Severus in here quite a lot in your time, you know,” she said in a girly voice.

    They nodded sheepishly. “Should we fetch Dumbledore?” asked Sirius again.    

    “There will be no need for that,” said a slow voice from behind them. All four whipped around in unison to see Dumbledore striding up the hospital ward towards them.

    “It was Mr. Potter who found Miss Granger, I presume?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what happened?”

    “No, sir. We…well, we went for a walk last night, and then we had an….argument….and she left. I went looking for her and found her like this just out of reach of the Whomping Willow….” He heard his voice crack slightly but continued on, saying, “It looked like she’d been dueling or fighting with someone….I think it was the purple flame curse, Antonin Dolohov used it on her last year….” He met Sirius’s eyes and quickly looked away, feeling his own burn.

    Dumbledore nodded. “I daresay you are correct,” he said, examining her.

    “Who….who do you think she was fighting with, sir?” Harry asked nervously.

    Dumbledore looked back at him. “This curse is Antonin Dolohov’s specialty. As of yet I have never known a victim of it that has not been his.”

    “Specialty?” Harry choked. The thought that the Death Eaters had specialties, curses they alone used to torture, injure, and kill people, was terrible, but Harry knew he shouldn’t have been surprised.

    Dumbledore nodded gravely. “Bellatrix Lestrange’s is the Cruciatus Curse. I believe her husband and Mr. Lucius Malfoy specialize in the Imperius Curse.”

    Harry gulped. “So, how did Dolohov even get onto the grounds, though, if it was him?”

    Dumbledore shook his head. “There will be no way of knowing if she never wakes.”

    Harry choked. “Never - never wakes?”

    He nodded. “I am sorry. But Madam Pomfrey is a very talented Healer, and may yet be able to save her.”

    Harry nodded sadly. “I - I’ll go and tell Ron,” he muttered. He was mere feet away from the door when Dumbledore spoke again.

    “Harry-” he said, and Harry turned slowly on the spot to face him. “Please do not visit the hospital wing again. I will let you know if there is any change in her condition.”

    Harry nodded. He saw Sirius and James vanish and sensed them return to his side.

    

                        ~

    When Harry reached the common room it was deserted. He guessed that everybody must be at Breakfast. He didn’t want to face anyone just yet, so he climbed slowly up the stone steps to his dorm.

    The first thing he noticed when he got in was that there was a scroll lying on his bed. Hedwig was perched awkwardly on his pillow. He half-leapt, half-ran to his bed and grabbed the letter:

    How does it feel to have killed another wizard, Harry Potter? Why, first it was Cedric Diggory and then your dear godfather last year… And we mustn’t forget your little Mudblood mother and her good-for-nothing husband…

    For someone so opposed the Dark Order, and at your age as well, you have an extraordinary number of deaths attributed to your name, you know.

    Hope you miss your silly little Mudblood friend.

    With the utmost lack of sympathy,

    Tom

    Harry gulped. Then it really was his fault…. She wasn’t dead yet but somehow Voldemort must be expecting her to die soon….

    “There you are!”

    Harry jumped and balled the letter up in his fist as Ron came dashing into the room. Ron’s face was alight with humor and happiness, and Harry didn’t have the slightest idea how Ron could be smiling at all. Then he remembered that Ron probably didn’t know about Hermione.

    “Hey…” he said weakly.

    Ron let out a riotous peal of laughter. “I can’t believe it!” he roared, punching the air with his fist.

    “What?”

    “I can’t believe it-” he snorted with laughter. “-you and Hermione!”

    “What?” Harry asked again.

    “Don’t be an idiot, Harry- I know! The whole school knows!”

    “Knows what?”

    “Really, Harry, we’re not stupid. You don’t come back to the dormitory all night. Hermione doesn’t go back to her dorm. The last anyone saw of you two was when you went off for your ‘evening stroll’….” He sniggered. “So how was it?”

    “Wh-?” Harry began again, but then he realized what Ron must think, choked, and spluttered, “Me and Herm? No - no….we were - we were just….going for a….walk. Yeah, that’s it, a walk.”

    “Don’t be daft, Harry,” Ron said. “If that’s not what you were doing, what were you?”

    Harry coughed. “Walking,” he said.

    “Are you feeling all right, Harry? You’ve gone all pale.”

    “I need to show you something.”

    “Huh?”

    “I need to show you something,” Harry repeated.

    “What do you need to show me?”

    Harry groaned inwardly; Ron could be very aggravating sometimes. “Come here,” he said, grabbing the invisibility cloak out from his trunk.

    He threw the cloak over them both.

    “Why-?” protested Ron, but Harry ignored him and marched out of the door with Ron on his heels.

    When they got to the hospital wing door, Ron let out a loud “What’re we doing here?” Harry stepped on his foot - which made Ron yell, “Ow!” - and said, “Shhh!”

    “Alohamora!” he whispered. The door opened a crack, and Harry and Ron squeezed through.

    Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, and some other teachers were standing over the end bed looking dismal. As they drew nearer, Harry recognized the other teachers to be McGonagall and Snape. Harry led Ron through them, inching towards the bed.

    Ron let out a completely audible gasp, and Harry couldn’t blame him. Hermione’s arms and legs were sticking straight out from her body and enveloped in white bandages, which struck Harry as odd, seeing for Madam Pomfrey could “mend bones in about a second”, and didn’t need many “Muggle remedies”. Her fingers had all gone curiously rigid as well. The bruise over her right eye was huge and the color of charcoal. She was sweating so much the sheets on the bed were almost see-through, and her nose, eyes, and mouth were all oozing what looked like purple water. Harry heard silence behind him and knew that Sirius and James were horrified as well.

    “Come on-” Harry started, tugging on Ron’s sleeve, but then Dumbledore said calmly, “Perhaps if you care to show yourselves, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, we will be able to explain.”

    Harry glanced at Ron. There was really nothing for it; they’d have to take the cloak off if Dumbledore could see them.

    He pulled it off, and that was when he realized that Ron’s eyes were shiny with tears. He gave him a half-hearted smile.

    “Miss Granger-” began Dumbledore gently, but Ron cut across him in an unusually high voice. “What’s wrong with her?!”

    “She has been attacked. You may recall, Mr. Weasley-” Dumbledore started again, but-

    “Who was it? Who did it?”

    “Mr. Weasley!” said Dumbledore. “Perhaps if you listen you will understand. Miss Granger has been attacked. You may recall some slighter symptoms of this kind happening to her at - erm - the end of last year?” Harry went a bit red and instinctively turned his face, only to discover that he was standing in Sirius’s side, which really did not help the situation. Standing partway in an Illusion wasn’t “cold as death”, like a ghost, as he’d expected, but more the perfect temperature. Like the first few weeks of spring….

    He jumped back and looked down, willing himself not to cry.

    “The curse was much less effective then, because Antonin Dolohov was unable to speak. But this is what happens when the curser uses the curse properly.”

    “Was it Dolohov then? Antonin Dolohov?”

    “That is a conclusion we have not yet made, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said somberly. “But yes, we suspect Antonin Dolohov may have had a hand it the act.”

    “What’s wrong with her?” Ron said again, staring at the purple goo that was oozing from her mouth, nose, and under her eyelids.

    “This is her body’s way of ridding itself of the curse. It will probably last for a few more hours at the least,” Madam Pomfrey supplied.

    “But-” began Ron, but Dumbledore said slowly, “I trust Mr. Potter will fill you in on the details. Until then, we will let you know if there is any change in her condition.”

    “But - but - … oh all right….” Ron said, and he allowed himself to be pulled from the room by Harry, Sirius and James following (visibly) in their wake.

                    ~

    “…and when I got back to my dorm I found this,” he said, thrusting the crinkled note into Ron’s hand.

    Ron’s eyes widened in horror as he read. “But….why?”

    Harry laughed. “Why?” he said incredulously. “Because he knows who my friends are….He knows who you guys are.”

    Throwing aside the fact that he was a potential candidate for a Voldemort attack, Ron said, “But what’re we gonna do?”

    “What do you mean?”

    Ron rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost the whole “Harry Potter-saves-the-day” thing.”

    Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

    “It means we have got to do something about it,” Ron said. “And I can’t do it alone.”

    “Well-” Harry began, but then Sirius and James said in unison, “No.”

    “What?” Harry said in an odd voice; it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be angry or sad or what…

    “You can’t go after Voldemort.”

    “Like hell I can’t!” Harry said angrily, the old “saving-people” urge back in place.

    “Listen to me, Harry,” Sirius said. “There’s nothing you can do! Voldemort’s men will be hundreds of miles away by now.”

    Harry started to say that he could care less, but Sirius seemed to be making another attempt to discourage Harry. “What about….Hermione! Don’t you….don’t you want to be with her when she wakes up?”

    “I just want her to wake up, and for Voldemort to pay. If I’m not there because I’m getting even with Voldemort, it’s just a price I’ll have to pay!” “I can still apologize and tell her how much I love her, even when she’s been awake for a bit!” was what he wanted to add, but he decided not to.

    “But-” began James, but Harry cut across him.

    “I’ve lost too many people to that excuse for a human being! I won’t lose another one!”

    “How will getting yourself killed help Hermione, pray tell?”

    “I can’t let him get away with this!”

    “But-”

    “Listen to me! I’m going. There’s nothing you can do about it. The most you could do is come with me….I have a feeling I’m going to need some moral support.” He raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Please?”

    “Oh all right,” said James grudgingly.

    “Fine.” said Sirius.

    “Do you know where he is, though?” Ron asked. “How will we get there?”

    “I have a pretty good idea on both.”

                        ~

    “This is where I found her,” Harry said, leading them over to the spot just out of reach of the Whomping Willow, where he had found Hermione. He was trembling. Get a grip, he told himself.

    “Somewhere around….here.” he said, stopping at what he remembered to be the right spot.

    “Erm - Harry?” Ron said to Harry, who was searching the ground with his eyes.

    “Mmm?” he asked vaguely, not looking up.

    “Why are we here?”

    “I think….” he muttered, kneeling on the ground and brushing leaves aside with his hands, “I think….I think he….”

    “I think he’s trying to say that there might be some clues around here telling us where the attacker went,” said James knowledgeably.

    “Oh - right then,” Ron said, getting down beside Harry and brushing leaves away as well. “What’re we looking for-?”

    “Found it!” Harry said excitedly. Ron looked over at him and Sirius and James drifted over to them. “There it is!” Harry said. He was pointing at a rolled up sheet of parchment.

    “Well, go ahead and pick it up!” Ron said eagerly.

    Sirius, however, held out an arm in front of Harry, who was once again caught in a daze of mild heat. He jerked back and Sirius smiled apologetically down at him. “Don’t, Harry. It might not be safe. It might be what hurt Hermione.”

    Harry sat back down. Sirius was right….but he was so sure….

    “Sirius! James!”

    All four of them turned to see Remus Lupin running towards them.

    James smiled happily at him and said, “Missed you a bit there, Remus.”

    Remus raised an eyebrow as if to say, “A bit?”, but then he grinned too. “Missed you, Prongs.”

    Sirius’s face, however, had split into a huge grin. Remus laughed, and it sounded almost exactly like it had in Harry’s dream. Harry could nearly hear Sirius’s heart rate quicken and his stomach flip. “It seems like ages, Moony,” Sirius said.

    “It was,” said Remus. He was wearing a thoughtful expression and studying Sirius’s teenage-self. “God, this brings back some very nice memories….” he said with a impish smile. His eyes seemed glued to Sirius’s; dark blue, almost black….light green with sparkling golden lights….

    James coughed to remind them of their prescense. They both gave a tiny jump and grinned sheepishly at each other.

    “Right,” said Lupin. “to business. Have you found anything?”

    Harry nodded. “Just that,” he said, pointing at the parchment.

    “Do you know what it is?”

    “No,” Harry said reproachfully. “because Sirius won’t let me. He says it might be ‘dangerous’”

    “Well, we’ll never know unless we read it,” said Remus lightly, and he picked to scroll up despite Sirius’s protests.

    A strange feeling filled the air, like a tiny bit of magic had just come into effect, but nothing happened visibly. Remus unrolled the scroll and began to read.

    “What’s it say, Moony?” asked Sirius in a flirtatious voice. James gave him a look.

    “What’s it say, Rem?” Sirius asked again, his tone only slightly less teasing and coy.

    Remus didn’t reply. His nose was buried in the letter. Harry expected his brows to run together or his eyes to widen, but the only part of him that was moving were his eyes, which were racing back and forth.

    “Rem?” Sirius began, but then there was a sudden whoosh of wind, the parchment re-rolled itself, and Remus was sucked into the paper tube. The moment he was gone, the wind died and the parchment fell onto the ground, completely harmless.

    They all gasped, but Sirius let out a whimper. Harry ran forward and picked up the scroll. The same tingling seemed to fill the air. Slowly, tremulously, he unrolled it and read:

    Harry James Potter,

        When you are done reading this letter you will be transported to the     whereabouts of Lord Voldemort and a faithful band of Death Eaters. The charm     only comes into effect when the end of the letter has been read. If you do not     wish to confront Lord Voldemort, however, I must sadly inform you it is too late.     You cannot stop reading the letter.

    Yeah, right, thought Harry…. As if sensing his thoughts, the letter went on to say,

        You don’t believe me? Well, then, go on, try it. Stop reading.

    Harry tried. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of the paper. He tried again. He couldn’t stop reading. And that was when he started to panic.

        Yes, it is a bit frightening, isn’t it? One of my more brilliant ideas, this. I     must admit the Dark Lord was most pleased with it. Rewarded me most highly     for my bit of genius, allowing me to perform a very important part of his plan to     take over the world of wizard-kind…

        In a few seconds the charm will come into effect and you will be     transported to Voldemort.

        I’ll see you there, then, shall I?

    The moment he had reached the last words the letter had flown out of his hand and rolled itself up like before, hovering in the air. With a huge gust of wind he felt himself being sucked into the paper and through a dark tunnel.

                        ~

    He landed with a soft thump on some grass. He felt a throbbing pain as his head collided with something huge, heavy, and made of stone, to his right.

    He rubbed his head. He couldn’t see anything at all hardly; the night was sucking all light and vision away from him, but every few seconds there would be a distant crash of thunder and a streak of lightening. The little light it provided wasn’t enough to see anything around him.

    There was another thump, louder this time, and then a strangled voice that Harry recognized as Ron’s, said, “Harry?”

    “I’m here, Ron,” Harry said. “Where’s Lupin? Are Sirius and my dad coming?”

    “Yeah, they’re coming,” Ron said. “And Lupin’s over here; he seems to have hit his head against something and passed out….”

    “Does he look alright?”

    “Yeah….” Harry said. He could hear Ron moving Remus around.

    There was a faint silver glimmer above them and Sirius and James materialized. “What is this place?” said Sirius.

    “Dunno….” Harry pointed his wand at his closed fist and opened his hand, revealing glimmering blue flames. He grinned inwardly; Lupin had taught him that trick.

    He held his hand up. What he saw nearly made him pass out along with Lupin.

    They were back in the graveyard. The one Harry hadn’t visited in almost two years…. And the something hard Harry had hit his head against was the tombstone of Tom Riddle, Sr. He groaned. He had no clue where “the graveyard” was, but doubted very seriously it was within a hundred miles of Hogwarts.

    “I’m just curious…” Ron said. Harry could see him searching for his wand by the blue flame. “How did you two get here? You can’t hold the letter, can you?”

    “No,” said Sirius, shaking his head. “But we can still read it, and that’s enough to activate the charm….Is Remus okay?” he asked in a higher voice than usual.

    “He’s alright,” Harry said, leaning Lupin onto the ground so he wasn’t sprawled out on a headstone.

    “Are you sure?” Sirius asked urgently.

    Harry rolled his eyes, momentarily lowering his flame-hand so that Sirius wouldn’t see. “Yes, I’m sure. He’s just passed out.”

    There was another loud clap of thunder. Harry heard Ron say, “Yes! Found it!” and a second later there was a thin beam of wand light stretching across the ground.

    “I wonder where they are?” Harry wondered aloud. “You don’t think it was a joke, do you?”

    “Oh, it wasn’t a joke, Harry Potter.”

                        ~

    They all jumped and whipped around. From every direction Death Eaters were closing in. They were hoodless, except for two in the back, and there was less than 20 of them instead of the 30 Harry had seen at Voldemort’s rebirthing. His eyes wandering around the tightening circle, Harry recognized the long blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy and the wide faces of Crabbe and Goyle, but the last face his eyes settled on was Bellatrix Lestrange’s.

    She was gazing rather blandly down at Harry, Ron, and Lupin. Harry realized that Sirius and James had gone invisible once again. She looked slightly amused and the corners of her mouth were twitching. Harry’s grip on his wand tightened.

    There was a loud series of thunderclaps and nearby flashes of white-blue lightening. Harry could feel Ron trembling beside him, but before he could say anything to him he heard Sirius whispering in Ron’s ear,

    “Just imagine that the thunder is the angels bowling and the lightening is the camera flashes from all the pictures they’re taking.” The disembodied voice paused for a moment and Harry sensed Sirius draw nearer, enveloping Harry in a light warmth. “And if it rains, that’s just the angels crying.”

    Harry smiled as he felt Ron stop shaking. The words were probably some of the most childish he’d ever heard, but they were sweet all the same. Leave it to Sirius to have stored some silly Muggle child’s saying in the back of his head….

    “Hello, Harry Potter,” said Malfoy. Harry’s scar started to burn.

    “What do you want?” Harry said roughly.

    “Oh, we thought we’d have a little chat, Potter,” said Malfoy. “The Dark Lord was, shall we say, indisposed, so he sent me. He was most disappointed he could not make it.”

    “Oh yeah? What did he want to talk about?” Harry snapped. The searing in his scar was becoming worse with every second….

    “Why, about that prophecy you so unwisely broke last summer. What else?”

    “What else?!” Harry said. “Maybe the fact that you nearly killed one of my best friends?”

    “Nearly?” said Malfoy. “Nearly? You mean, she’s not dead?”

    “Nope. Almost, though-” he started, but Malfoy was already yelling, “Dolohov!”

    Antonin Dolohov staggered forward out of his place in line. “Yes, Master?”

    “Master?” Harry said bitterly. “What’s this ‘master’? He’s not Voldemort!”

    Lucius gave a little laugh. “Well, you see, the Dark Lord has, shall we say, “promoted me”. He’s made me second in command, right under him.”

    Harry snorted. “You think he even means that?”

    Malfoy didn’t move at first. Then he said, “Dolohov. You have failed the Dark Lord and myself yet again….”

    “No - please, no - master….”

    “And do you know what I say to your whining and stupidity and failure to serve the Dark Lord and myself?”

    “No….no master, I don’t….what….don’t….”

    “Avada Kedavra,” whispered Malfoy.

    Dolohov toppled over and lay sprawled across a headstone. Ron let out a loud whimper.

    “And so, to business, Harry Potter,” said Malfoy lightly, pocketing his wand and clapping his hands together once. “As you know, you broke something of great value to myself and the Dark Lord last June-”

    “What, that stupid prophecy?” Harry snapped. “It doesn’t matter - Dumbledore told me what it said anyway!”

    “Really!” said Ron excitedly. “What did it say?” Then he added indignantly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

    “Did he, now?” asked Lucius with mild interest. “Yes, I thought he would….”

    “What did it say?” asked Ron urgently.

    “So!” said Malfoy. “You’ll tell us the prophecy, and we’ll spare your lives-”

    Harry snorted. “Yeah, right.”

    “What did it say?” whined Ron.

    Harry spun around and irately muttered the prophecy in his ear. “Its me,” he finished.

     “Oh….wow,” said Ron.

    Harry turned back around. “I’m not going to tell you.”

    “Yes, I thought we might encounter this little problem….” said Malfoy idly. “Well, then, if you’re sure….Imperio!”

    “Tell me what the prophecy contained…”

    “No, that’s okay, I don’t think I will…”

    “Tell me!”

    “No, I don’t want to...”

    “Tell me!”

    “NO!” Harry’s eyes snapped open as he felt the curse lift. “No!” was still echoing around the graveyard; reverberating off headstones as though two hundred Harry were all yelling, “No - No - No - No - No!” He also realized, with an unpleasant jolt, that the burning in his scar had intensified.

    “No?” said Malfoy, sounded genuinely perplexed. Harry supposed it was because he had never been told “No,” before.

    “That’s right,” snapped Harry.

    Lucius smiled broadly, his face contorting into an evil grin. “You have with you a schoolboy from the poorest wizarding family in the country and a passed out-” he wrinkled his nose in distaste “-werewolf. I have at my call 16 faithful Death Eaters. You are in no position to-” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “-deny authority.”

    Harry burst out laughing. “Authority?!” he choked. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

    But this, apparently, was quite the wrong thing to say to Lucius Malfoy, who seemed to have reached the end of his tether. “Crucio!”

    The flash of light was mere inches away from Harry when it suddenly headed in the opposite direction. It sang over the top of Malfoy’s head and Harry could smell burnt hair.

    The Death Eaters’ foreheads wrinkled in confusion. Malfoy raised his wand again and shouted, “Crucio!”

    The spell changed direction again, less than a foot away from Harry. This time it hit Rodolphus directly in the chest. He let out a high scream and fell to the ground, but the curse ended as soon as it had hit, and he staggered upright again.    

    There was a loud clap of thunder and Harry heard Ron muttering, “Angels…bowling….”

    “How….” stammered Lucius. “How did you do this magic? What is it?”

    “Yes, I’m rather curious about that as well,” said Sirius, materializing in front of Harry. James was standing behind him.

    Bellatrix Lestrange screamed, Malfoy paled, and Rodolphus almost fell to the ground again.        

    “Hello, cousin,” said Sirius cheerfully, nodding merrily to Bellatrix. Harry doubted that anyone but himself and Sirius had caught the touch of sarcasm in his words.

    It was the first time Harry had ever seen Bellatrix at a loss for words.

    “Hi, Bella!” called James from around Harry, sticking a hand out to wave at her.

    “Wh- who…?” she managed to mutter.

    Harry heard James give a low sigh and mutter something about, “Was at school with her long enough….”. James poked his whole head around Harry. “Remember me?”

    She gasped. “James!”

    He sniffed. “Mr. Potter, if you don’t mind.” He grinned at her shocked expression. “It makes me feel better about myself….”

    She looked as though she was fighting extremely hard not to laugh. Harry didn’t blame her; he doubted that would go over too well with Malfoy.

    “James - James Potter?” asked Rodolphus, sounded utterly confused.

    “I always wondered,” James said, “why you married this git-” he jerked his head at Rodolphus “-when you could have had me…” He ran a hand through his hair and fixed her with a steamy stare. Harry could tell she was fighting the urge to burst out laughing.

    She finally let out a low giggle that was poorly masked as a snort of disdain. “Yeah right!” And then she said something Harry would never have expected - “I wish - I really do! As if I could have you when you were all over than Evans girl….”

    They all gasped; James even stumbled out of his sexy pose. “I was just joking, Bella!”

    She went crimson; Harry could just see the flush through the darkness. “Er - er - me too!” she said, with a forced laugh.

    Sirius was smirking at her and trying not to look too disgusted; James was gawking at her and for once not ruffling his hair; Ron’s mouth was dangling open; Harry was watching with a feeling of great interest and slight foreboding; Rodolphus was glaring at his wife; Malfoy was rolling his eyes repeatedly, muttering about “I was there too, in her year, even, but no, I’m not good enough….”, and - to Harry’s amusement - studying his fingernails as though he thought them to be poorly shaped and in need of their weekly manicure; Most of the Death Eaters were laughing silently; A few even had tears of mirth streaming down their faces.

    “Enough of this,” snapped Malfoy, bringing most of the others to. James, however, was still gazing open-mouthed at her, looking a bit repulsed, and Bellatrix was staring a bit too intently at Malfoy to be entirely plausible.

    “No - don’t stop, it’s funny,” gasped Rabastan Lestrange. Malfoy bristled.

    “Funny, eh?” he said. “I suppose you’d think this is funny too, then - Crucio!”

    The spell hit Rabastan directly in the chest; he let out a high-pitched scream and collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain.

    Malfoy was grinning, but that wasn’t what shocked Harry. It was the fact that Lucius Malfoy was not smiling evilly, or corruptly, or insanely; instead he had a grin a pleasure across his face that reminded Harry of something Bellatrix had said last year….

    “Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you boy? You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain - to enjoy it …” Beside him, Ron had gone tense and was breathing shallowly.

    The other Death Eaters were laughing as they watched Rabastan twisting and yelling in pain, even Bellatrix and Rodolphus. As a matter of fact, Bellatrix and her husband were laughing harder than anyone; doubled up and shaking.

    Malfoy finally lifted the curse, and the grin of enjoyment evaporated slowly from his face. Rabastan did not look up from his place on the ground, but instead lay face-down in the grass, his breathing coming raggedly.

    Malfoy eyed Bellatrix and Rodolphus. They had straightened back up again, but their mouths were twitching and Bellatrix had a hand over her mouth, stifling her snickers in an almost school-girl way.

    “Family ties don’t run too deep in the Black family, do they?” Lucius asked slowly.

    Bellatrix waved a hand carelessly at Sirius. “Obviously not.”

    Malfoy did not smile, and Harry knew why. To be pureblood meant you had to stick to your family even if you didn’t like them. He doubted Sirius was considered proper family, but he knew Rabastan was.

    “You ought to remember, Bella-” Lucius started, but then he broke off, staring into the sky.

    Everybody else stared up too. It was unmistakable what Malfoy was looking at - a poisonous-green snake comprised of sparks floating amid the stars. Harry watched as it twisted through the sky to form a glittering number 9 in the air.

    It thrashed about between the stars for a second before vanishing, and all eyes snapped onto Malfoy, who was anxiously counting the Death Eaters. His face fell as his eyes reached the last one in the circle.

    He sighed. “All right - Bella, Rodolphus - Goyle - Nott, Macnair - Rookwood - Avery, Mulciber - No, you stay, Crabbe…”

     He pointed to a headstone near the yew tree Harry had seen in fourth year, and the Death Eaters he’d named moved over to it.

    “One - two - three, four - five - six - seven” Lucius sighed. “Eight….Damn, Dolohov was supposed to go….”

    “I’ll go, master,” said a voice Harry recognized. He looked around the circle in time to see Snape gingerly removing his hood. Harry gasped, but when he met Snape’s eyes he was silenced with a threatening look.

    “What?” said Malfoy idly, still recounting the Death Eaters by the tree as though hoping he had missed one.

    “I’ll go,” said Snape again. Harry met his eyes again, and Snape gave him a genuine but brief smile. Harry understood; Snape would risk exposing his spy identity if he stayed, because he would not attack Harry. He managed a small grin in return when he realized that Voldemort must actually believe Snape to be a faithful Death Eater, but then he realized that he was smiling at Severus Snape, and stopped.

    Malfoy looked up. “Will you really, Severus? But I need some of the stronger duelers to stay….”

    “I wish to serve yourself and the Dark Lord, master,” said Snape, kneeling at Malfoy’s feet with a pained expression.

    Malfoy nodded. “Very well, Severus. You may go.”

    Snape was halfway to the yew tree when Lucius called, “If he should ask why Dolohov did not join you, tell him that he is dead. Tell him that he failed the Dark Order once again.”

    Snape nodded, and with a last glance at Harry vanished between the other Death Eaters.

    Malfoy’s gaze was directed towards the sky again. Harry looked up to see white wand sparks erupting in the distance. “Go now,” said Malfoy, and one by one the nine Death Eaters Disapparated.

    There was only 7 Death Eaters left, including Malfoy. While the odds were hardly improved, Harry knew that 2 vs. 7 (not counting Remus, who was passed out, or Sirius and James) was much better than 2 against 16.

    Lucius clapped his hands together. “So! Ready to tell us the prophecy?”

    “No,” said Harry coldly. “And I don’t plan on ever telling you!”

    Malfoy sighed. “You are forgetting something, Mr. Potter,” he said quietly.

    “No, I don’t think I am, somehow,” snapped Harry.

    “You are forgetting that you are not the only person here to know the prophecy.”

    “What?” said Harry. “Yeah, I am, though!”

    “No,” This time it was not Malfoy that spoke, but Ron.

    “What?”

    “I know too….you told me.”

    “So what? Ron won’t tell….will he?”

    “That’s right - I won’t!” said Ron.

    “Not on his own, perhaps.”

    And then Harry realized what Malfoy meant. He meant to use the Imperius Curse on Ron, who Harry knew could not fight it….

    “Sirius….” he muttered. “Sirius, move over,”

    “What?”

    “Move….Get in front of Ron.”

    “Why?”

    “God dammit, Sirius, just move!”

    “Harry, I’m supposed to protect you, not your friends!”

    “If Voldemort gets the prophecy you will have done a pretty bad job of protecting me, eh?” He glanced up to see if Malfoy was listening, but he was simply gazing down at them with a very self-satisfied smirk on his face, oblivious to their discussion.

    Sirius sighed. “All right, all right….James, get in front of Ron.”

    “What? No, you get in front of him, I’ll protect Harry - he’s my son anyway!”

    “God, not this again…” groaned Harry.

    “He’s my godson!”

    “Just move!”

    As they continued to argue, Harry turned to see Malfoy raising his wand, pointing it at Ron….

    “Get over it, Padfoot!”

    ….he was half-way through saying the curse….

    “Kiss my arse!”

    ….the jet of light was speeding at Ron, who was watching the argument with his mouth slightly open….

    At the last moment, Harry leaned through James and Sirius, seized Ron by the collar, and pulled him to the ground and out of the way. The curse echoed away in the distance, and a loud CRACK behind them told Harry it had hit a gravestone.

    Everything went silent. Even James and Sirius stopped arguing. And then Malfoy raised his wand and bellowed, “Crucio!”

    Harry was extremely thankful that, just a moment before, Sirius and James had decided to return to either side of Harry. The curse hit Sirius in the arm, and vibrated away, though it did not hit it’s originator this time.

    The Death Eater next to Malfoy yelled, “Stupefy!” at Harry. The curse once again hit Sirius and bounced off. It hit the Death Eater in the chest and he fell over.

    Malfoy raised his wand yet again and shrieked, “Crucio!” at Harry again. This time he was not as lucky as before; the curse went between Sirius and James and hit him in the side….

    He felt as though his blood had turned to flame, as though every bit of his body was being stabbed with a hot knife….

    It stopped. Heaving his aching head up from the ground, where he had fallen, he realized that James had stepped across the spell path and blocked it. Harry struggled up.

    Fire in his eyes, Malfoy nodded towards one of the shorter Death Eaters, who ran forward and seized Harry from behind by the arms. He struggled, but the short man was strong… And then he felt it; one hand, freezing and smooth as ice….but the other, warm and slightly wrinkled. He struggled around and realized that it was Wormtail. He couldn’t guess why he hadn’t recognized him at first….

    Malfoy’s face split into an evil grin. He raised his wand, slowly advancing on Harry. Sirius and James were trying their best to block Harry, but it was hopeless. Harry realized that while James looked relatively calm at the arrival of Pettigrew, Sirius was shaking in rage….

    “Ron!” called Harry, trying to drown out the thunder in the distance. “Do something!”

    Ron looked up. He raised his wand, unnoticed by Malfoy, but then stopped - what spell to use?

    “Ron!” shouted Harry.

    With all the force he could muster, Ron brought his wand sweeping down and shouted the first spell that came into his mind - “Avada Kedavra!”

    The moment the words were out of his mouth he knew it was hopeless. Hadn’t Moody said, just two years ago, that it took real magical power to do the spell?

    And yet - as he watched Malfoy turn, anguished, to face the bolt of green; as Harry’s eyes popped in horror; as Wormtail’s hold on Harry slackened - he wondered….Could it work? Could it be that poor Ron Weasley, always shadowed by his brothers, only passing his classes because of Hermione, could actually work the spell?

    The spell hit him in the chest. He staggered for a moment, then fell face forward over a headstone. He was dead.

    Two of the Death Eaters Disapparated right then, including Pettigrew. Ron was rather violently sick behind a bush, and when he straightened, he took one look at the body before passing out alongside Lupin.

    Harry stared, appalled, at the scene. Who would have guessed that Ron Weasley had it in him to kill someone? Through his horror, Harry felt a tiny twinge of jealousy….He was Harry Potter. He did not have a choice whether or not he murdered someone. He had to - it was his purpose….to die or to murder….

    Two of the remaining Death Eaters were advancing on Harry, but the third one, the hooded one, was lingering behind….

    He raised his wand. “Impedimenta!” Nothing happened. Why can’t I do the charm? he panicked.

    “Crucio!”

    Sirius moved a moment too late; the curse hit Harry again, and he fell to the ground. It felt as though someone was pouring molten metal all down his body… The Death Eater laughed and lifted the curse, leaving Harry panting on the ground. He reached out for his wand, but then he realized that his wand was in his pocket. This must be Lucius Malfoy’s wand. He dropped it. It was solid ebony, shining on the ground, making the grass go pale as the wind picked up speed.

    He reached into his pocket and withdrew his own wand. He pointed it between James and Sirius and screamed, “Impedimenta!”

    The spell was weak, but it still had effect. He sniffed, looking down at the wand and wondering why his spells were so poor….

    The next Death Eater made towards Harry.

    Looking around, Harry’s eyes fell on Ron, and he remembered something Ron had done in first year, which seemed to be about an age and a half away now.

    “Wingardium Leviosa!”

    Harry smirked as the Death Eater’s feet left the ground. Within moments he was twenty feet in the air and screaming bloody murder. James and Sirius burst out laughing.     The short, hooded Death Eater, the last one there, raised his wand. “Ex- expell- Expelliarmus!”

    The feeble spell died about halfway to Harry of it’s own accord. The Death Eater whimpered.

    Harry raised his wand, preparing to strike, but then-

    There was a huge gust of wind. Harry guessed that if he had weighed about a pound less, he would have actually been blown over. Turning to face the last Death Eater, Harry saw that he was gone.

                        ~

    He had survived. They had all survived. Except Malfoy and Dolohov, of course, but what did he care about them?

    “Harry,” said Sirius, drifting over, with James.

    Harry buried his face in his hands. Malfoy was dead. He couldn’t believe it. It was his fault, too. No, he had not actually killed him, but he was the one who had shouted a Ron, “Do something!”. And Ron had. And what about Draco? What would he say? No one deserved to lose their father, not even Draco Malfoy.

    “Harry,” said Sirius again. There was a loud THUD as the Death Eater he had been levitating dropped, followed by a low, “Ow….”

    Harry looked up.

    “We have to go, Harry,” said James.

    “What!?” gasped Harry. “Why? Please stay!”

    “We can’t, Harry,” said Sirius. “There are others that need to use illusions to come back onto Earth. To do things. Maybe even more important things,” he said, looking as though he thought nothing was more important than protecting Harry.

    “No…please don’t….” choked Harry.

    “I am sorry,” said James. “But you do understand, don’t you?”

    He nodded. No one deserves to lose their father…

    James backed up a little bit. He sighed first, but then smiled.

    “What are you smiling about?” asked Sirius roughly.

    “Remember what Dumbledore told us?” asked James. “About going back?”

    “Can’t you just do it the normal way?” Sirius asked pleadingly. “The other way’ll upset him.”

    “No it won’t,” said Harry. “I want to see!”

    James smiled at him, eyes watering a little bit. “We will meet again, Harry,” he said, floating up a few feet.

    Harry nodded. James closed his eyes, and suddenly threads spread across him; gold, copper, and scarlet. They formed a net, closing James off from the world. The lights covered him, raveling about him like thread on a spool until it was impossible to tell if James was even inside the light-threads or not.

    All at once, the fibers of light began unraveling again. They fell, empty, into a pile on the ground. James was gone.

    Harry rushed forward and seized the thread. It was a single piece, but when he held it up, it was only about a quarter of an inch taller than himself. His eyebrows ran together in frustration…The thread flickered by the moonlight; first gold, then emerald, then copper.

    Sirius drifted slowly after him. Harry looked up from examining the thread to face him.

    “I have to go too, Harry.”

    “I know,” whispered Harry, looking back down.

    “Harry,” said Sirius yet again, and Harry raised his eyes a bit, wiping them as he did so.

    “Get Ron and Remus and yourself back to the school,” he whispered.

    “How?” asked Harry bluntly.

    “Erm….like this,” said Sirius. He held a hand out in front of himself, his face strained in concentration, and a ball of bluish light appeared. He pulled his hand away and the light lingered on, stretching into a circle large enough for a grown man to squeeze through. “Special illusion privilege,” said Sirius with a grin, seeing Harry’s stunned face.

    Harry looked away, wishing that Sirius would suddenly start laughing and say that he was just joking, that he could stay.

    “You carry a heavy burden, Harry,” said Sirius quietly. “Do not carry the weight of the dead as well.”

    Harry started to nod his head that, no, he wouldn’t, but somehow couldn’t do it.

    “Harry-” started Sirius, but Harry shook his head to clear the tears and looked back at Sirius as a flash of lightening illuminated the graveyard.

    “I’ll miss you,” they said together, and then they laughed. Sirius backed up like James had, but then Harry said, “Wait-”

    Sirius looked sadly down at him as he said, “Thank you.”

    “It was Dumbledore’s idea,” whispered Sirius, looking as though he wished it had been his own.

    “No - not that so much,” said Harry.

    Sirius raised an eyebrow. Harry grinned.

    “Well, yeah, this too, but I meant….for last year.”

    “For dying?” said Sirius perplexedly.

    Harry shook his head again. “Dumbledore told me what you told Kreacher last year.”

    “What did I tell him?”

    “That the person you - you cared about m - most was….was me.”

    Sirius smiled wider than Harry had seen in a long time, the blue light of the portal illuminating his face. “It was true,” he murmured.

    Harry felt a single tear slip down his cheek.

    “Listen, Harry,” said Sirius. “I want you to think about it like this,” he said. “When I was alive, I wanted one thing more than any other.”

    “What?” Harry asked.

    “To see your father again.” Sirius sighed. “And after I died, I wanted to see you again. Well, now I can see your dad all the time, and this - seeing you - is enough….for now.” He half-smiled. “I can watch you, you know,” he said softly. “I can watch you all the time.”

    Harry smiled, which caused his eyes to spill a few more tears out.

    “Just promise me one thing, Harry,” said Sirius.

    “Anything,” whispered Harry.

    “Don’t die until it’s your time. I can wait a bit, you know. Patience is one of my better qualities.”

    Harry snorted. “I didn’t know you had any.”

    “I do so! I am a very patient person,” he said sardonically. Harry could see the Dog Star glimmering over Sirius’s shoulder.

    “Yeah, sure…”

    “Promise me.”

    “I promise,” he croaked.

    “Good-bye, Harry,” said Sirius.

    Harry nodded. His arms were hanging limply at his sides, pointless.

    He looked up at his godfather - or rather, his godfather‘s illusion. Sirius was crying, smiling slightly through the tears, but crying. And then he was gone.

    Still looking up, Harry felt three warm tears hit his face.

    And then it started to rain.