Remember You

Harry stared and began to wonder why all the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. He felt himself stumble backwards, but somebody was there to catch him. He did not know who it was, but he also did not care. After being seated, Harry blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear the fog from them to look at the Headmaster more clearly. “I... I’m sorry, what did you say, sir?”

Dumbledore walked forward and sat tiredly in the chair before Harry. “I’m sorry, Harry. There was really nothing anybody could have done. None of us, myself included, ever thought that your cousin would be in danger-”

“What? In danger? In danger of what, exactly?” Harry asked furiously. “Tell me this hasn’t got anything to do with Voldemort.”

The Headmaster sighed and nodded his head gravely. “It was Death Eaters that did it. As I just told you, Dudley was found in an alley, but by a wizard. The Leaky Cauldron has recently put up new wards so that nobody can just Apparate in directly, and they set the designated Apparition area in an alley a block away. While he was making a trip to Diagon Alley, a wizard from the Magical Law Enforcement Unit stumbled upon him. When he checked Dudley’s body, he found signs of the Cruciatus curse and other various Dark curses. He brought your cousin into the Ministry straight away.”

Harry swallowed thickly and looked down at his hands. “So... he was tortured to death? No quick, Avada Kedavra. They had to torture him to death.” Harry’s voice was completely void of expression.

“Yes, I’m afraid so, Harry.”

“How... how are Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon doing?”

“As well as they can be. I won’t lie to you, Harry; your Aunt isn’t doing very well at all. I was with them for thirty minutes today after I left your party, and she only spoke a couple words. When she did speak, she asked of you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. She asked for you to attend the funeral and even wanted you as a pallbearer, though Mr. Dursley did not want that. Sirius and your friends may go as well, if they want.

“When is it?” Harry whispered.

“It’s tomorrow at one.” Dumbledore was silent for a couple moments as he took in Harry’s grief-stricken face. There seemed to be something running rapidly through the Gryffindor’s mind. “Anything you’d like to ask me, Harry?” he finally asked.

Harry looked up and met the Headmaster’s blue eyes. “Yes. Why did they kill him? Why Dudley? He never did anything to them! And what about Hedwig?”

“I haven’t heard anything of Hedwig. I’ll admit that I haven’t been keeping an eye or ear out for her because I didn’t know that she was missing. I’ll ask around though. As for Dudley, we are still trying to figure out why he was a target. There are some very suspicious circumstances that we are looking at. It seems that Dudley wrote his mother a letter last August, of which the contents I have not read, so I cannot tell you what it said. We think that he never gave it to anybody until he arrived at school. His friend, Piers...”

“Piers Polkiss,” Harry offered.

“Yes. Mr. Polkiss was in possession of this particular letter since the beginning of term. He tells us that Dudley gave him the letter, saying that if something should happen to him, to give that letter to his mother.”

Harry was silent but Remus spoke up in a confused tone. “But that sounds like he knew he was in danger for some reason. How could he have known?”

Sirius shifted uncomfortably.

Dumbledore shook his head gravely. “The Ministry is on it. Luckily, one of the Aurors who is on the case is also in the Order. I’ll be getting an updated report tonight.”

“Thank you for coming to tell us, Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said quietly and then stood. “I’m going to my room.”

He left before anybody could comment. As the dark-haired boy was beginning to ascend the stairs, soft footsteps hurried to him and stopped his progress by gently grabbing his arm. “Harry? Are you all right?” He turned to see Draco looking up at him, concerned. Harry smiled a little and pulled his boyfriend so that they were standing on the same step.

“Honestly? No. But I will be soon enough.”

“You know that whatever reason it was for the Death Eaters to kill him, it wasn’t your fault, right?”

The Gryffindor tried to say yes, but his throat seemed to be stuck and he just barely managed a nod. He felt like he was lying to himself. Of course it was his fault for Dudley being murdered. If Harry had not so willingly let Dudley into his life the previous summer.... Harry shook his head. It was too painful to think about. “I’m sorry, Draco, but. But I just want to be alone right now, okay?” Draco nodded, squeezed Harry’s hand, and walked back down the stairs. Harry watched him go and felt a small smile tease his mouth.

“Hey, Malfoy?” he said mischievously. Draco looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, Potter?”

“Don’t kill Ron and Hermione while I’m gone, huh?”

Draco smirked. “I think I’ve told you countless times, Potter... I make no promises.”

Seeming to sense that Harry needed a little joking around, Draco continued, “Just go sod off, Potter. I won’t use my fire on them.”

Harry grinned and chuckled a little before walking towards Draco again and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Dragons can’t tame their fire, Draco.”

“Fine. I won’t use my teeth then.”

“That’s better,” Harry grinned before letting his mouth caress Draco’s in a very brief, soft kiss. Harry pulled away to head to his room, but, Draco pulled Harry back and kissed him deeply. When they pulled back, both of their eyes were shining.

“You’re such a silly sod, Potter,” Draco said affectionately.

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

“I don’t know.” Draco shrugged.

Harry smiled and leaned his forehead on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He knew that it was Draco’s way of showing his feelings for the Gryffindor. Draco was known for his gag reflex if there were too many "I love you"’s thrown around. As Harry stood with Draco, his thoughts turned back to Dudley. How exactly had he been tortured? Had he been conscience during all of it? Harry drew a shuddering breath and pulled away.

“I need to be alone now. I’m going to go to my room, and remember, no teeth.”

Draco rolled his eyes, ruffled Harry’s hair, and walked away. As soon as the green-haired Slytherin was out of sight, Harry turned and walked quickly up to his bedroom, shut the door, and flung himself onto his spacious bed. The window beside the bed had been left open by a house elf in the course of the day, and a soft breeze wafted in, causing the curtains to gently wave. The sun was halfway under the horizon and the moon was already up with a lone star beside it. Cheery birds were in their respective trees, singing happily for the day’s end, singing for the carefree life they led, singing happily because the birds probably never had to know the pain that the death of a loved one caused. They also did not know what it was like to feel responsible for that soul’s death. Those birds were possibly the happiest and luckiest beings on earth, in Harry’s opinion.

He briefly wished that he could have a life that carefree, then he would not have to know any of this pain he was feeling now. Harry sighed sadly, hugging his knees to his chest. Dudley Dursley was the sole occupant of Harry’s thoughts.

The larger boy had never been nice to Harry in their younger years... Dudley had never shown any kind of respect, never smiled at Harry, never defended him, never apologised for beating him up all the time. That is, until last summer. What had happened? Had Dudley felt obligated to befriend Harry because he was feeling sorry for him, or because some faceless Death Eater was threatening him? Maybe it had even been Voldemort threatening Dudley. No matter the reason, it still angered Harry. If Dudley had not befriended Harry of his own accord, it was Voldemort again playing with Harry’s emotions. The Dark Lord knew just which buttons to push to get Harry upset. It had everything to do with family and friends.

Family - the thing that the Gryffindor had always wished for in all those dark hours in the cupboard under the stairs, in all those times when his aunt and uncle were yelling at him. In all the many times when they were lavishing Dudley with love and affection through words, actions, or presents. Harry had been denied everything including a loving family while growing up and Voldemort knew that was a sore spot. And why should he not know? Tom Riddle had experience in the matter, after all.

Friends - they had also been denied to him throughout his childhood. Every day at school was torment because there was no one who wanted to befriend the freaky little boy with large, black glasses, messy hair, and a strange scar on his forehead. He was also the boy whom Dudley’s gang hated so much. Nobody went against the word of Dudley’s gang. Whenever a new person enrolled in school, Harry’s hopes would soar for a few seconds, maybe even minutes, at the prospect that maybe this person would be his new best friend - his first best friend. But, then as the new student looked for an empty seat, which there was always one near Harry right at the front, his classmates would yell out to not sit by him and the new student would look at him as if he had cooties and move to the furthest empty seat from him. His spirit would be crushed for a few moments, but then he would look forward for the next new student to come along. Maybe that person would want to be his new best friend.

Voldemort had hit upon both of these sore spots with Harry the previous year. He took over Sirius, the only father figure Harry had ever known and, through Sirius, had made Harry’s friends hate him. Now it looked as though Dudley was all a set-up, and there was nothing to right the wrong between the cousins. There would never be another chance for Harry to really become friends with Dudley Dursley. It was a prospect that he still found mind-boggling in the least, but it did not seem quite so far-fetched anymore. It felt right. It felt exciting, it. It felt like gaining a part of himself. But it was gone. The opportunity was gone before Harry could even take a firm hold of it.

A quiet knock sounded at the door, jolting Harry from his thoughts. “Come in,” he said quietly, though loud enough for the person outside to hear.

The door opened soundlessly, emitting a very worried Sirius Black. “Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Hello.”

“How are you doing, Harry?”

Harry scowled just a little, thinking that to be a very ignorant question, but he answered it anyway. “I’m all right.”

Sirius nodded and sat beside Harry on the bed. The younger Gryffindor did not even realise that there were silent tears flowing down his face until Sirius wiped them gently away. He softly started to run his hand through the black mess on top of Harry’s head. “Do you think he ever really liked me, Sirius? I mean... I know it might be a little selfish to think of now that he’s.... you know, but it kind of makes me wonder all the same. I was starting to like him.”

Sirius shifted. “I couldn’t really say if he did or not. I would think that he did. I don’t see why he wouldn’t, after all. You’re likeable enough, aren’t you?” Sirius grinned slightly.

“Yeah,” Harry forced a small smile as well. “I guess I am.”

“Of course you are,” Sirius assured. They were silent for a few moments before Sirius spoke up again. “I was going to tell you that we’ll need to go for a quick shopping trip tomorrow morning, because I know you don’t have any Muggle suits.”

“Okay. You’re wearing a Muggle suit too?”

“Well, I don’t think that whole lot of Muggles would appreciate the wizarding attire, now would they?”

“No, I suppose not. Sirius?”

“Yes?”

“Could you... I mean... could you not wear that suit you wore to the Dursley’s last summer?”

Harry could not meet his godfather’s eyes as he said this. Sirius tensed slightly but continued to rub small circles on Harry’s shoulder blade with his hand, where it had moved to a few minutes earlier. “I honestly wasn’t planning on it. In fact... I burned it.”

The dark-haired boy looked up sharply at the other man. “What?”

Sirius nodded and smiled grimly. “I couldn’t stand looking at that thing. I mean... it was what I was wearing when I screwed everything up again.”

“Again? What do you mean?”

His godfather sighed and looked out at the rapidly darkening sky. “I mean, Harry, I already screwed up with your parents by trusting Wormtail. Then I messed up again with you.”

Harry sighed deeply. “I’ve told you before... it is not your fault for trusting Pettigrew. All of you trusted him and none of you had reason to suspect otherwise. And if there were any signs, they were too small to catch. And last year... it just wasn’t your fault. I’ve told you before.”

Sirius turned to his godson, smiling just a little. “Sometimes I feel like the seventeen-year-old, and you’re the thirty-seven-year-old.”

“Well, you need to be taken care of just as much as I do, so get used to it, I say.” Harry offered the cheekiest grin he could muster up. Sirius shook his head in amusement and pulled his godson to him in a bruising hug. “What I’d do without you, Harry... I have no idea.” Harry sighed in content, choosing not to say anything. He was positive that Sirius knew he felt the same way. They were essential to each other to stay alive. “I brought you some dreamless sleep potion if you’d like.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” he replied even as his scar started to burn a little. He winced and rubbed it a little. “I might have a dream tonight otherwise. I think Voldemort’s angry enough to take it out on me and send me a dream.”

Reaching into his robe, Sirius pulled out a small vial and placed it on the bedside table. “Go get into your pyjamas and brush your teeth, then you can take this.”

“What about Ron, Hermione, and Draco?”

“They’re fine. They are in the guest rooms closest to yours and I believe I heard Draco persuading Hermione into switching with him, so that he could be in the room that has the passageway to your drawing room. I made the mistake of mentioning its existence.”

Harry chuckled a little, imagining the excitement in Draco’s eyes as he heard Sirius saying that their rooms were connected. In Harry’s room there were four doors. One led out into the main hallway, one out onto the balcony, one into the bathroom, and one to a staircase that went up to the fourth floor. The fourth floor was a bit of a mystery to Harry. The only way that you could get to the fourth floor was by finding one of the secret passageways on the third floor. Sirius had informed Harry that there was no hallway on the fourth floor and that he had yet to find all of the rooms. Harry’s, and now Draco’s, passageway was the easiest to find and had been known since the house was built almost two hundred years ago.

The intention for the fourth floor had been for it to be like any other floor, but it had taken on a mind of its own. “Well, that doesn’t mean he’ll be able to find the door into my room. In fact, I’m kind of worried that he won’t be able to find his way back into his own room.”

It was easy to get into Harry’s drawing room, but getting out was a completely different matter. In Harry’s bedroom there was the normal door, but once inside the drawing room, you had to pull open a specific drawer in an apothecary cabinet for the door to appear. The door to get into Draco’s was the same, except you one had to pull open a drawer on the desk.

“You’re right,” Sirius said after a lengthy pause. “Well, if he disappears, we know where he is.” Harry grinned as his godfather got a mischievous sparkle in his eye and ruffled his hair. “I think I’ll go suggest for him to go up there.”

“Sirius! No! I won’t be in the mood to go rescue him tonight.”

His face softened as he looked at his godson. “You’re right again. I’ll leave him alone tonight then. Go get ready for bed. I’ll be in here bright and early for us to go shopping. Oh, and your friends offered to come, if you wanted them to.” Harry answered with a nod of approval. “All right. Sleep well, then.”

“Goodnight, Sirius.” His godfather smiled again and left the room, leaving Harry to get into his pyjamas and take his dreamless sleep potion. After he did all this, he was asleep before his head was on the pillow.

***

Harry wiggled his tie around uncomfortably. He was used to wearing ties, as he was required to during school, but for some reason, this tie seemed oddly constraining and it suffocated. Maybe it was just the fact that he was on his way to a funeral. He was dressed in black Armani (Sirius had insisted on the best). His messy hair was straining against the hair gel that Draco had dumped on it, and odd hairs were sticking up all over the place.

The Gryffindor buckled himself into the seat by a window and watched as Draco climbed in the car beside him, followed by Hermione and Ron on the opposite side. Sirius and Remus were up front, Remus driving, but the students could not see as a thick curtain was blocking the view. Sirius owned a Rolls Royce. It looked normal on the outside, but it was bigger than a limo on the inside. Harry thought it to be a bit above his level, but liked it all the same. Draco brought Harry out of his musings by Draco trying to smooth out his hair again. He batted the pale hand away.

“It’s not going to work and you know it, Draco! So stop it!”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try,” he replied, trying to make a piece of hair lay down obediently. When it did not work, the Slytherin sat back with a sigh. “Well, if I still have to have green hair, I guess you can go looking like a fool with your hair standing out all over the place.”

“It’s not like it’s anything new,” Harry muttered irritated.

“Rug mop,” Draco said quietly, looking at his boyfriend’s hair.

Harry creased his brow. “What?”

“Er - wha’? I... I said Rug mop.”

“Why?”

“Your hair is a rug mop.”

“What’s a rug mop?” Harry asked.

“A mop that’s shaggy... I guess.”

Harry rolled his eyes and looked out the window at the passing scenery. “Oompa loompa,” Harry muttered after a few moments, and Hermione burst into giggles. Harry looked at his boyfriend to see his cheeks glowing a light pink, either in embarrassment or anger, Harry could not tell. Whatever the cause, Harry did not care. He still could not get over how sexy Draco looked in a Muggle suit. Sirius had insisted upon buying everybody new Muggle clothes, and they had managed to get Draco into them without getting injured... just barely. It had been a close call. Harry leaned in at this point and put his mouth near Draco’s ear.

“You look damn sexy in those clothes.”

If anything, Draco turned even more pink and avoided Harry’s gaze. The Gryffindor chuckled a little and looked back out the window, thoughts returning to Dudley.

*

As the group of wizards and one witch entered the church in Little Whinging, Harry could not help but become tense. This was the church that he and the Dursleys had come to every Christmas and Easter, and it did not bring back many good memories. Sirius, who was walking beside Harry, noticed his body language and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Harry offered a grateful smile before looking ahead of him to where Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon could be seen standing by a closed casket. Both were dressed all in black and Aunt Petunia’s eyes were red and swollen. A sharp pain of guilt stabbed into Harry’s stomach as he looked at her.

It was his fault that Dudley was dead. It was his fault that she was in this state right now. Everything was his fault. Harry bit his lip to keep it from trembling and continued forward. At that moment, Aunt Petunia looked up and spotted him. To the Gryffindor’s surprise, she gave a loud cry of relief and flung herself onto Harry, hugging him fiercely.

“Harry! I’m so glad you’re here,” she cried into his shoulder. He was a bit startled to realise that he was now two inches taller than his aunt. Had he really grown that much? Pushing the thoughts aside, he clung to his aunt, offering the comfort she needed and taking as much comfort as he could from a person that he had always strove for acceptance with.

“I wouldn’t miss it, Aunt Petunia. I’m so sorry,” he apologised, meaning it in more than one way. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

She pulled away and smiled tiredly. “Well, at least I still have you with me, right? I’ve been thinking of ideas on how to decorate your room--” Harry gave Sirius a frightened look as Aunt Petunia kept speaking about what they were going to do with Harry’s room, and found that Sirius was looking a bit surprised.

“Let her down gently,” Sirius whispered. Harry gulped and took his Aunt’s hand.

“Aunt Petunia,” he interrupted her. “I’m sure that you remember that I... well, that I live with Sirius now. I don’t live with you anymore.... I’m sorry.”

The older woman looked so confused for a few moments as she studied Harry, then her face collapsed in defeat. “I’m sorry, Harry. This must be a bit awkward for you. I’ve just been a bit out of it the past couple days. I don’t quite feel like myself anymore.”

“It’s okay. I understand what you must be going through.”

Uncle Vernon then gently pushed his wife aside and narrowed his beady eyes on Harry. “Boy, I know Petunia invited you and your... friends here, but if you do any of that... funny business--”

“You know I’m not allowed to in the summer, and Sirius and Remus are smarter than to do anything in front of Mugg... normal people like you, Uncle Vernon.”

“Yes, well... all the same.” Vernon looked around conspiratorially and then lowered his voice. “I know Dudley died because of your... kind. Everything has gone wrong in our lives since you were dropped on our doorstep, and if I ever see you again after today, it will definitely be too soon.” Harry clenched his jaw to keep from retorting as Vernon thrust a large hand into his pocket, withdrew an envelope, and thrust it at Harry. “Here,” he grunted. “This came in the letter that Dudley wrote to us. He wanted it to be given to you.”

Immediately after giving the letter to Harry, Vernon was swept away by his sister Marge, who sent a nasty glare at Harry. He ignored her and put the letter into his inside coat pocket to read later. The other members of Harry’s party were all speaking with Aunt Petunia, giving out their condolences, so Harry went and took a seat on one of the front pews, making sure to sit far enough in so that five people could sit next to him. Draco soon joined him at his right and they secretly entwined hands. Draco squeezed Harry’s as if asking if Harry was all right, and the squeeze that Harry sent back answered that question. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Hermione and Ron then sat next to Draco and the three of them began to converse quietly, no doubt talking about Aunt Petunia since they were sending glances her way as she spoke to Sirius and Remus. The pew squeaked to the left of the Gryffindor and he looked over to see a girl of about eleven sitting next to him, staring up at him with large green eyes.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted quietly. “I was looking for you. I was told to either find you or Austin, and he isn’t anywhere around here yet.”

“Oh, well here I am.” He smiled gently at the girl, not finding it odd that she knew his name, or the fact that he knew hers. “Where did Mum go, Sierra?” he whispered quietly.

“I think she went to the bathroom or something.” The girl named Sierra scowled a little and swung her long black hair over her shoulder where it fell to the middle of her back. “I wish she would have let me wear my hair up today. It’s so hot and it keeps falling in my face,” she complained. “Hopefully she’ll let me cut it a little before I start Hogwarts this September, right Harry?”

“Yes. I think you’d look great with a new haircut.” Sierra smiled brightly, as though very pleased with Harry’s compliment, and folded her hands neatly in her lap, ready for the funeral proceedings to begin. Harry smiled a little and turned to the front as well. Everybody was nearly seated, and he noticed that his godfather and former professor were seated next to Ron.

“Hey.” Draco elbowed him in the side. “Who were you just talking to?”

“Oh, Sierra. Who else?”

Draco looked a bit confused. “Who’s Sierra?”

“She’s sitting right...” Harry looked over and found that she was gone. “Oh, she must have gone to find Mum. She’s a sneaky little devil sometimes.”

“Are you feeling all right, Harry? I’ve never heard you speaking about anybody named Sierra before.”

“I always do, Draco,” Harry smiled. “You just have to listen more closely.”

“But-”

“Shh. It’s starting.”

***

The funeral passed in a blur. There was rarely a time in that day that Harry actually registered what he was doing. The only time he knew was when he was looking for Sierra. He hadn’t had any luck. Sierra had disappeared. This did not sadden Harry because he knew he would see her again, it was just a matter of when he would see her again.

Three days after the funeral, when Harry woke up from a thankfully dream-free night‘s sleep, he bounded down the many flights of stairs, only to have a near-collision with a very red-headed man. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ro... Charlie! What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise once he realised that it was not his best friend but his best friend’s brother.

“Hello, Harry,” Charlie replied. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”

“As well as can be expected. I heard about your cousin, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Oh... it’s all right. I think I’ll get by.”

“I’m sure. You do have a lot of support around you, don’t you?” Harry replied with a small nod and smile. “Sirius also tells me that Dudley sent you a final letter as well.”

Harry stopped. He did not like people reminding him of it. He had read it so often on his own, that he did not like to think of it while he was with people.

“Yes. I did,” Harry replied shortly. “So... what are you doing here anyway? I mean, not that I’m not glad to see you, but well, I rarely ever see you!”

“I’m here on Order business, actually, so I’m not allowed to say, but I’m going to be staying here for a while. We’re not quite sure how long, but we’ll see when the time comes, won’t we?”

He offered a cheeky smile that made Harry catch his breath. The younger Gryffindor smiled shakily and nodded. “What about the dragons in Romania? Aren’t you doing that anymore?”

“Of course. I’m just taking a leave of absence for a while. I will probably end up regretting it though, since I’ll probably be out of shape when I go back.”

“Well, you can always play Quidditch with Ron, Draco, and I, when we play and if you have time. It’ll keep you somewhat in shape.”

Charlie smiled again. “Yeah, that’d be good. You can show me just how good you are at being Seeker. I don’t think we’ve ever had the chance to play against each other.”

“No, but that would be fun. You’ll probably kick my arse.”

“Doubtful, Harry. I’ve seen you fly... You’re amazing up there.”

The red head reached out and gently touched Harry’s elbow, making him blush at the contact and compliment. “Erm - thanks. But you are better than me--”

“Hey, Potter!” drawled a voice behind the two men. Harry whirled around and found himself looking at a very irate Slytherin. Charlie, however, did not seem to see notice this, as Draco was good at hiding his feelings from people who did not know him well. Of course, Harry, knew Draco well enough to know that he was very upset at the moment.

“Yes, Draco?”

“You’re missing breakfast,” he replied shortly.

“I’ll be there. It’s nothing to get worked up over.”

“Yes, it is,” Draco ground out. “Breakfast... is the most important meal of the day according to Granger. Now get moving.”

“Sheesh. Fine, I’m coming. Are you hungry, Charlie? I’m sure there’s still food in there, even though Sirius has probably gone through almost all the food already.”

If anything, Draco glared more at both Gryffindors. “No, thanks. I’ve already eaten. My Mum insisted on making me a huge breakfast this morning before I left. I’ll be free in a couple hours though. Would you, Draco, Ron, and Hermione like to go swimming in the lake?” he asked, pointedly staring at Draco’s hair, which still had a tint of green in it.

Draco growled low in his throat but replied anyway. “As long as the bloody lake doesn’t have green dye in it, I’m fine.”

Charlie laughed heartily and slapped Draco on the back, making the blond scowl deeply. “I don’t think we’ll have a problem there. I should go and find Sirius now. We have a bit of work to do. I’ll see you boys later then.”

“Okay,” Harry replied and watched as Charlie ascended the staircase. Draco roughly grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall to where breakfast was being served. “Calm down, Draco. What the hell is the problem?”

“Weasel, Weasel, Weasel. That’s my problem. Why does there have to be so many of them? I thought it was rabbits that had millions of babies, not weasels.”

Harry wrenched his arm from Draco’s grasp and stalked ahead of his boyfriend. “I don’t like it when you call them weasels. They are the nicest people you’ll ever have the privilege of meeting.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I generally don’t like people who try to steal my boyfriend away.”

Harry whirled around, scowling. “For one, Charlie is just a flirty guy. He doesn’t like me in that way. For another, you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to cheat on you. I don’t want a death by Draco Malfoy, thanks. I never thought a Malfoy could be so insecure.”

Draco turned pink and his eyes livid. “I’m not insecure. Do I look and sound like a person who is insecure? No. I didn’t think so.”

“Actually, when you act all jealous, you sound a bit insecure, like I’m going to leave you or something. Charlie is just a friend, all right?”

“I know that you think of him as a friend, but he wants you.”

“Draco, shut up,” Harry sighed, rubbing his face. “He doesn’t want me. Now, I’m going to eat. Are you coming or not?” Harry turned and began walking down the hallway, hearing grudging footsteps carrying their silent owner.

***

After breakfast, Harry excused himself from his friends’ company, saying he needed to do something in his room. Ron, Hermione, and Draco informed him to meet them in his private drawing room on the fourth floor. After separating ways at Draco’s room, Harry went to his own room and locked the door behind him. He quickly located the letter from Dudley and threw himself in one of his plush armchairs. It was time for his daily torture session.

Harry,

Hello. I can guess what has probably happened if you are reading this letter right now. I don’t mean to sound all melodramatic or anything like that, but I think I’m probably dead since you’re reading this. Whatever you do, don’t show either one of my parents this letter. I don’t want the real reason for my death to come out to them, all right, Harry? I should probably start from the beginning. At the beginning of the summer holiday this year, or last, whatever year it is now to you, I went into London with a couple friends of mine from Smeltings, if you remember. That was the morning that I almost tripped you down the stairs, but when I came home I wouldn’t talk to you at all. I don’t know if you remember that or not. But I do.

Harry, in fact, did remember that day. It had only been about a week into the summer holiday when Harry had woken up and started downstairs to make breakfast. Dudley had stuck out his leg and nearly killed Harry by sending him down the stairs. It was good luck that Harry’s seeker skills had jumped into action and he had been able to grab the railing before falling far. Dudley had indeed gone to London that day and when he had come home, he had been incredibly silent, brooding even. Dudley had seemed a bit jumpy around Harry and had not come near or even spoken to Harry until the day Sirius had shown up at the Dursleys.

While I was in London, my friends and I were in a store, I don’t remember which one, but it isn’t really important. Well, I went one way by myself to look at some candy while the others went to look at the liquor, talking about how cool it would be to steal it and get drunk. While I was trying to decide what I wanted, somebody pulled me into a back room of the store. When he let me see him, I didn’t know who he was, but I could tell that he was a wizard by his clothes.

I didn’t find out who he was until your birthday, in fact. I’m sorry to tell you, but it was your godfather, Sirius Black. He started telling me that he knew who I was and that you are my cousin. He told me to become friends with you. He tried to bribe me at first, but I refused, because to be honest, I didn’t like the thought of becoming friends with you. I told him to sod off, but then he started to threaten me and mum and dad. Sirius said that he would kill mum and dad if I didn’t do it, or he’d make me do it by putting me under some curse. I don’t remember what it was called, but I’m guessing it takes over your mind or something. I really didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should believe him or not, but I figured since there are some major lunatics out here in the Muggle world, as you would say, that there must be some in your world as well. I agreed to become friends with you, though I didn’t really see a point.

When Sirius showed up on your birthday, I was really surprised. I didn’t think anything would have come of his threat, but there he was, in our house. I knew that I had to do something then and there to start becoming friends with you. So, I went into my room and found an extra Discman that I had never opened and one of the CD’s that Piers had burnt for me on my birthday.

For what it’s worth, I am sorry for not telling you about Sirius. I think that I could have saved you from what you seem to be going through this year. If you’re wondering why I took an interest in magic, I only asked because I was curious as to who or what Sirius was working for. When he came to our house, he said something about serving his master, but I didn’t know what he was talking about. Now, with one of your books, I found out about Voldemort and that you beat him when you were a baby. Let me tell you, that you must be bloody brilliant if you did that.

Again, for what it’s worth, I did start to like you. I think we could have become really great friends if we had had the chance. Don’t feel bad about what happened to me. As I write this, an owl from Sirius has come for me. He wants me to tell him anything new that you have told me. That was the purpose of me becoming friends with you, so that Voldemort and Sirius could know what is going on with you. I’m not going to tell him now though, because you’ve accidentally said the name of the person who is helping you in one of your letters. Draco Malfoy? I’m glad he’s there. In fact, I wrote to him a couple weeks ago and I just got his reply yesterday. He seems a little bit, well... stuck on himself and spoilt, but look who’s talking, you’d say, right? He’s probably doing a good job of being your friend. Say hello to him for me.

If I die, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who is about to refuse to tell anymore to Sirius. I’m the one who is bringing my own death to me. Don’t blame yourself, Harry. If there is one thing that I have learned about you since we have started speaking to each other, it’s that you take things to be your fault. It’s not. I’ve had quite a long time to come to terms with death. I’ve thought about it a lot in the past months, and I’m willing to risk it to keep you safe. After all, your parents died saving you, so you must be worth it, right? I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were kids. Things should have been different.

Anyway, I have to write to Sirius now. I hope you have a good life, and I know you might not want to, but keep an eye on my mum, okay? I don’t think she’ll take my death very well. Take care, and I hope things work out between you and Draco. He told me things were rough with you two lately. Please work it out. I’d like to think of you as happy in the future.

Goodbye, Harry.

Dudley

PS: One more thing... I want you to smear that Voldemort character into the dirt where he belongs. I know you can do it.

Harry folded up the letter and hastily wiped away the silent tears running down his face. It angered him that he had been correct in his own assumptions. It had been a plan of Voldemort’s that had made Dudley befriend him. The only thing that Harry could be thankful for was that Dudley had been doing it of his own accord after a while. Dudley had liked him. That one thought made the Gryffindor smile slightly. Harry knew that Dudley had told him not to feel guilty, but he could not help but feel just that. There had been too many people already who had sacrificed themselves for his sake. He did not know if he could take another person doing that.

Harry sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair. If only Dudley had told him that it was Sirius. Then maybe Harry never would have had to bow down in front of Voldemort. The thought still made him feel nauseated. Harry had tried to keep his anger at Sirius down the past couple days, but now a surge of anger spread through Harry’s body like a wildfire, and he sprang from his chair and ran out of his room in the direction of Sirius’ study where he was sure to be. His study was on the second floor on the other side of the manor so Harry was slightly winded by the time he burst through the large oak door. Across the room, Sirius jumped from his chair at his desk, as did the two people in front of his desk, Severus Snape and Charlie Weasley.

“Harry!” Sirius exclaimed, as Harry clutched the stitch in his side. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he breathed out as Sirius grabbed his shoulders.

“Tell you what?”

In answer to the question, Harry shoved the letter into Sirius’ hands and sunk down into a chair to rest. It took a few minutes for Sirius to read, and when he was through, he looked at Harry apologetically. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew,” he replied, handing the letter to an inquiring Snape.

“Knew that you were one of the people who killed my only cousin!?” Harry yelled out. “How could you?” he demanded.

“Now, Harry, I know you’re upset, but think on this for a minute. Dudley didn’t disappear until May. By then, everything was back to normal. Everything had been figured out and I was no longer under Imperius. I didn’t have a part in his death.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell somebody that Dudley was in danger? It was the least you could have done! He’d still be alive!”

“I...” Sirius started but faltered, at a loss for words. Harry glared furiously and stood abruptly and ran out of the room. He had to stop when he got to the third floor as he was still winded from his first exertion. The Gryffindor fell to his knees, breathing deeply, trying to get his angry thoughts about Sirius out of his head. He knew that Sirius had been just as out of it after the whole ordeal was done as everybody else. Maybe even more so. The man had been facing a trial, after all. How was it his fault that he forgot? Anybody else could have. But then again... if only he had remembered, then Dudley would be safe on Privet Drive, and they could continue their friendship that had been developing.

Maybe Draco could have even become Dudley’s friend. Harry smiled slightly at the thought of Draco ever becoming friends with Muggles. Of all the horrors, Harry thought, amused. Little stars started to dance before his eyes, swirling with black. The black-haired boy blinked owlishly as he started to feel dizzy. Soft footsteps approached from behind and he turned to look. He smiled a little when he saw that it was Sierra again.

“Hello. I didn’t know you were here,” he said quietly. The girl giggled and moved in front of him.

“I’m always here, silly. Are you feeling okay, Harry? You look dreadful! Should I go get somebody?”

“I am feeling a bit weak and dizzy.”

“I’ll go get Daddy. Stay here.”

Harry nodded, feeling as though he could not go anywhere even if he had wanted to. Not a minute later, hurried footsteps pounded down the hall to where he was kneeling and he looked up.... and gasped. It could not be….

“Harry! Are you all right? Sierra said you were sick!”

“I’m feeling a bit nauseated. I’m a little upset with Sirius is all.”

“Oh, is that all?” he grinned. “Well, I’m sure Sirius wouldn’t mind if you pulled a small prank on him, Harry. After all, that’s the way us pranksters are, right? Somebody pranks you, you prank them.”

“But he didn’t prank me,” Harry protested as he was lifted into strong arms.

“Don’t talk nonsense, Harry. That’s all Sirius is known for.”

Harry studied the man before him with blurry vision, more confused than he had ever been. Yet, he knew that it was not anything strange. He was just missing a bit of information. “You don’t have to carry me to my room. I’m just a little dizzy.”

“You’re speaking nonsense again, Harry. What are fathers for anyway?”

“Well, I reckon to do things like this, but I don’t remember ever having somebody to do this for me before.”

“I’m feeling like I’m repeating myself, son. Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense. You’ve always had me here for you.”

“But...” Harry stopped, and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I don’t--”

“Don’t strain yourself. You’re weak right now and we’re coming up on your room. I’ll lay you in bed and you can rest for a couple hours. Maybe you’ll feel better then.”

“Okay,” Harry replied slowly. Harry was carried into his room, laid gently onto his bed, and tucked in.

“Have a good rest, Harry.”

“Mm OK. Thanks, Dad.”

Harry rolled over and was asleep before James Potter closed the door behind himself.