Harry Potter and the Guardian of Lost Souls

Chapter 4:

The days seemed to fly by at the Full Moon so that in no time at all Harry had already been there two and a half weeks. During that time, Harry met many other people from the Order besides those who were staying with Lupin. They came and went. It seemed to be that Lupin's was a halfway house of sorts. Those of the Order who were on assignment could stop at Lupin's for a night's sleep and a good meal before continuing on their way the following morning.

Everyone that Harry had met in his first two days were regulars there. They were in charge of researching ways to defeat the Dark Lord and gathering information about where his location might be. But Sirius, Lupin and Cyril were there for different reasons.

Lupin was there because he was in charge of the house, and since he'd have trouble travelling because of the small and almost insignificant matter of his being a werewolf.

Sirius stayed because of all the obvious reasons, even though he still ventured out once in a while in dog-like form.

But Cyril also had to stay back for his own protection. His old school friends were all working for Voldemort now, and none of them were very happy with him...

When September came, a different group from the Order would get time off and research and Fiddle, Fletcher, Arabella and Su-Ling would all would go back to the real work. The way they carried on, it was easy to tell that they all hated being assigned to do research and were dying to go back to the hectic life that came with being part of the Order.

Harry marveled at the precision with which the Order worked. Dumbledore had chosen well, those wizards best equipped to get the job done. The ministry, as Fletcher would often rant, knew nothing of them, knew nothing of how many attacks were being prevented because a small group of people were doing everything in their power to stop them. Fudge was an idiot, Fletcher liked to say, and it was a sad day that the bungler stepped up to take the job.

But all in all, it was a quiet life that the research division of the Order led, and Harry felt he hadn't had so much peace in ages.

He was having a wonderful summer. His conscience tormented him less and less, and the awful dreams that had been plaguing Harry, were fewer and far in-between. He had needed to spend the summer with people who loved him and for once, Harry had gotten something that he wanted.

~*~

It was a sunny Tuesday, in his second week at the Full Moon, that Harry came down to breakfast to find a tiny annoying owl fluttering around the dining room, deeply bothering Su-Ling, who was trying to meditate, to no avail.

Using his fine-tuned seeker abilities, he snatched the irritating fluff ball that was Pig from the air. The owl beat his wings ecstatically in Harry's grasp and hooted twice in pride at having completed his job. Harry gave an exasperated sigh and proceeded to remove the minute letter attached to Pig's leg. He opened it and smiled as he read the contents.

"Good morning everyone," Sirius said as he walked jauntily into the room. Harry looked up and grinned at him.

"Hey, Sirius," he replied cheerfully.

Sirius looked down at the miniscule note. "What's that?" He winked. "Girlfriend perhaps?"

Harry turned beet red and shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Sirius chuckled.

"No," he said pointedly. "It's from Ron. He wants to know if I can go with him to get my stuff in Diagon Alley."

"Sure, why not?" Sirius poured himself a cup of coffee. "When is he going?"

Harry glanced at the note once again. "Um, in two days.The whole Weasley family is going together."

Sirius suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Oh. Harry, well, two days from now I was actually planning to do something with you."

Harry looked confused. "With me? What?"

Sirius looked even more uncomfortable. "Well, uh, that's the thing. It was supposed to be a surprise." He looked at the floor. "If you really want to go with Ron, then that's alright, I just hope I can find another day to take you, that's all."

Harry was intrigued, and he much preferred whatever it was Sirius was planning to Diagon Alley. "That's fine, Sirius," he said cheerfully, "I'll tell Ron I can't make it. Anyway, Arabella said she'd take me into London whenever I needed. I can go with her some other time."

Sirius looked considerably happier and relaxed visibly. "Wonderful. That's great. I'm just a bit busy lately and, well..." Sirius smiled. But Harry did notice that his eyes weren't as bright as they usually were. Indeed, Sirius had been working hard lately, staying up late into the night, working on different plans that Dumbledore told him about, and sometimes even venturing out in his dog form, to learn what he could about Death Eater activity.

Harry didn't like seeing Sirius so tired, working so hard. It took a lot out of him, and Harry thought that what Sirius deserved more than anyone was just a bit of rest and a vacation.

Harry shook his head slightly and went to get a quill. When he found one he sat back down and wrote to Ron about why he couldn't come, and that he'd see him on the Hogwarts Express in two weeks. He then settled down to eat the delicious breakfast Arabella had prepared. Next to him, Sirius was wolfing everything down as quickly as he possibly could.

"Er, Sirius?" Fiddle asked from across the table.

"Hmph?"

"Did you eat anything yesterday?"

Sirius swallowed his mouthful and looked at Fiddle, puzzled. "Of course, why?"

Fiddle looked down at his own plate, which was still quite full. "Oh, no reason..."

Sirius shrugged and continued to meticulously clear his plate. In two minutes he was done. Nobody else had touched their food as they watched Sirius eat. It was remarkable, really, how all that food had been there just a second before...

When the last scrap was gone, Sirius got up from the table and with a swift "Have a nice day," was out the door, only seconds before Arabella walked in carrying a tray of freshly baked muffins. She set the tray down on the table and looked at Sirius's empty plate and spot. She seemed severely annoyed.

"Trying to avoid me, is he?" she mumbled to herself, hands on her hips. And with that she spun on her heel and was out the door on Sirius's tail.

The table occupants all grinned at eachother and continued to busy themselves with their meal.

~*~

The next two days passed in serene happiness. Su-Ling let Harry watch her practice Kempo, and it really was very cool. He had a very interesting conversation with Sissy (Fiddle's fiddle) about famous personas that had owned her and her cousin Cilia (a glamorous contra-bass).

But of course the strangest thing was watching Arabella and Sirius. Everytime those two ran into each other, awkwardness ensued. It was laughable, really... They'd both mumble about the weather and look at the floor before turning their separate ways. It had been like that for a while and Harry wondered if the situation would ever improve.

Then, the night before Sirius's surprise, Harry was walking up to bed when he passed by the study. The door was slightly ajar and he could hear voices carrying from inside. He wasn't going to listen until he happened to hear some of what was being said, and who was saying it. Arabella.

"Sirius, I meant what I said the other day. I really have missed you."

Harry stopped and listened intently.

Arabella continued. "You don't know what these past years have been like. I knew you could never have done it. But when I saw that even Remus believed you were guilty, I guess I just didn't have the strength to say otherwise anymore. The worst was, deep in my heart I still knew they were all wrong, and I felt like I was betraying you as well as myself. It hurt me to not be able to talk about you and to act like I was sorry that I had ever, I had ever..." Arabella trailed off. Her voice had gone softer than Harry had ever heard it. "That I had ever loved you," she finished in a whisper.

Harry drew in a surprised breath.

"I'm so sorry." His godfather's voice cracked as he spoke, as though he was on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry for how I've acted these past weeks, and I'm sorry I caused you pain." There was a pause. "Remus told me what happened the day they threw me in Azkaban..." There was another pause, and Harry could picture the vacant expression that Sirius's eyes had taken on. "All those years, I thought you believed what everyone said. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to believe otherwise. All those years, I thought you'd never forgive me." Sirius coughed. "It was harder to bear than the Dementors."

Harry heard Arabella give a dry sob.

"Don't cry," Sirius said, sounding worried. "Please, don't cry because of me. I never wanted to make you cry," he pleaded.

"Oh, Sirius, I'm not crying because of you." Harry could hear her smiling. "You're the last person in the world who could ever make me cry. It's just," she laughed, a harsh, pained laugh, "To think all those years were wasted because of a two-faced coward who didn't have enough brains to fill a spoon. You would have never thought someone like that could cause so much trouble. Oh, Sirius, it´s almost more than I can bear!"

"Shhh. I know." Sirius comforted her, his voice muffled as though his face was buried in her hair. "That traitor has a lot to answer for. And one day, I will make him pay for everything he did to Lily, James and Harry. And us." His voice was filled with a deadly determination that sent a chill up Harry's spine.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"I really did miss you."

Harry decided he'd invaded his godfather's privacy enough, and he tiptoed away as quietly as he could, smiling to himself as he went up to bed.

~*~

The following morning, Harry was up at the crack of dawn out of excitement. He couldn't wait to go wherever Sirius was going to take him. His imagination was working over-time trying to imagine all the possibilities. He lay in bed for at least an hour, letting his mind wander here and there, before deciding it was useless. He got out of bed and got dressed, viewing himself in the mirror before going downstairs. He had grown in the past year or so, and playing Seeker for Gryffindor had done wonders for his frame. He was no longer the scrawny little boy that had left the Dursley's four years ago. He was quite tall, though not nearly as tall as Ron, and all in all, he didn't think he was all that bad looking. The glasses were a bit of a bother, but he actually had got rather used to them. His hair was just as unmanageable as ever, but hey, life wasn't perfect...

Harry walked downstairs and checked to see if anyone was up yet. They weren't, so he proceeded to walk out to the garden. There was an old wooden swing a small distance from the house, and it was to there Harry went and sat down, swinging slowly, the morning breeze blowing his hair and lifting his bangs to reveal the lightening shaped scar on his forehead. His gaze was unfocused and his thoughts wandered in every which direction.

His fourth year hadn't been all that bad, the whole Voldemort incident not included, and Harry hadn't really thought much about it. His classes had been very interesting, besides Snape's, Trelawney's and Binn's of course. He had great friends; he'd had his share of adventure and excitement that one had to expect when attending Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He'd been Triwizard Champion, even though that had led to the year's climax. The kitchens and house-elves, S.P.E.W, the Yule Ball...

The Yule Ball. Harry's thoughts began to take direction. The Yule Ball had been a slight disaster. He must have been the worst dance-partner ever. So much for his first date. He had a slight suspicion that Parvati would always resent him for that one. But it had been hard, when the only person he'd wanted to be there with had been Cho, and she'd been with Cedric.

Cho and Cedric.

Harry sighed, his eyes staring gloomily off into the horizon. He leaned his head against the side of the swing. Poor Cho, she'd been devastated when Cedric had died. If he closed his eyes, he could see her tear-streaked face at the Leaving Feast. But Harry still couldn't help realizing that his stomach no longer did that funny twist when he thought of Cho. Harry knew why. He'd never be able to look at her again without feeling some pang of guilt. And no matter how much people told him it wasn't his fault, in some small way, he'd always feel it was.

Harry took a deep breath. The air smelled so good. Damp and fresh and morningish. Exactly what a new beginning should smell like. He loved it when the air was like that. It always made him feel so full of hope. He stopped thinking about the past and focused his thoughts on the future. He wondered what was in store for him there. He had his friends and he had school, but would either be the same after the events of the past year? He didn't know. His friends, he knew, would always be there for him to comfort him and keep him going, but school... he didn´t think things were going to be exactly the same as before. He highly suspected that less students would be attending this year and he also knew that many of the teachers would be missing, either quit or on assignments for Dumbledore. Many of the schoolteachers were part of the order. Sirius had told him.

Sirius.

Harry smiled. His summer had been everything he had always expected it to be. And he was happy Sirius and Arabella had "patched things up". Harry had marveled at the fact that the past weeks, just seeing his godfather happy had made him happy as well. Just watching Sirius smile always made him want to jump up and down shouting, "Sirius Black is my godfather!" But the truth was, Sirius was more than that. Sirius was like a second father to him, though no one could ever take his real father's place. And Lupin, well Lupin was like an uncle! Harry laughed, his voice breaking the serene silence of the morning. The way Sirius and Lupin acted it wouldn't be hard for anyone to mistake them for brothers...

"Harry? Are you out there?"

Arabella's voice carried across the large garden from where she stood, framed in the back doorway leading to the kitchen, a large purple spatula in her left hand. Harry sighed contentedly and stood up, stretching his arms out in back of him.

"Be right in!" He called back to her. He saw her bustle back inside, waving the spatula like a wand.

Harry looked around him and then up at the house. The Full Moon, he decided, was the closest thing he'd ever had to a home. Too bad it wasn't permanently Lupin's.

With one last glance up at the house, he walked inside to breakfast.

~*~

Harry walked side by side with the huge black dog that was his godfather. He had no idea where he was or where he was going. All he knew was that Sirius was very excited as to wherever it was.

Breakfast had been a fine affair as always, but this morning Sirius and Arabella had made breakfast together without blowing up the kitchen, which was a fair cause for celebration in itself. No one really knew what had happened between the two besides Harry, but they all strongly suspected they had settled their differences. Especially when Fiddle had caught Sirius staring at Arabella with his fork halfway to his mouth and kindly pointed it out to everyone else.

After breakfast, Harry and Sirius had walked down to the muggle village. Sirius transformed before they got there, and they made their way to the bus stop, since there was no way that Sirius could travel magically. Floo was out since there was no receiving fireplace to end up in, and the Ministry kept tight tabs on any apparating. People did stare at the huge dog on the bus and the strange boy that kept talking to it, but neither Harry nor Sirius paid any notice.

They got out at the nearest stop to "Wherever" and then Sirius proceeded to lead Harry down a quiet and rarely used country path. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful landscape. The summer air blew the leaves of the great maple trees along the way. Golden fields stood to one side of them, and on the other side was a small stream of the brightest blue Harry had ever seen. Beyond that, a wood of pine trees dappled here and there with an odd apple tree. The apples were so ripe that their smell mingled with the summer breeze caused quite an intoxicating effect. Harry found he was getting rather sleepy as he walked and he would have liked nothing better than to stop and lay down on the grassy bank of the stream and go to sleep in the sun.

They had been walking for a little more than half an hour when Harry saw a cluster of little stone cottages from afar. He looked down at Sirius only to find him looking up at him pensively. In a moment he had transformed into his usual self.

"Sirius! What are you doing?" Harry asked furiously. His godfather was not supposed to reveal himself.

"It's only for a minute, Harry," he replied. He suddenly looked very serious, and Harry wondered what had come over him. Sadness flickered through his godfather´s eyes for a moment.

"What?" Harry asked, concerned. "What is it?"

Sirius swallowed and took a moment in answering. When he did, Harry was surprised to hear the solemn note in his voice. "I wanted this to be a surprise, now it just seems like a stupid idea," he mumbled to himself before he continued. "You don't remember, of course. I didn't think you would. Harry," he said turning to face his godson completely, "but this is where you were born. This is Godric's Hollow." Sirius looked expectantly at Harry.

Harry, on his part, stood speechless, the strange and almost unbelievable words sinking in. He felt his heart stop beating for just a second and all of the blood rushed up to his head. He felt a bit dizzy for a moment and swayed on his feet. Sirius grabbed his shoulders and steadied him.

"I'm sorry." He said unexpectedly.

"Huh?" Harry asked, still dazed by the information. "Why?" His godfather looked very pale.

"I should have told you where we were going before," he said simply. "It was stupid. I just didn't want you to come to this place in sadness."

Harry looked at the small village in front of him. Godric's Hollow? This was where he'd been born, where he would have grown up, had his family still been alive. In a second everything changed. He looked at the world and imagined how it might have been. He would have played here in these forests and swam in the stream. He would have eaten apples and fished and taken long walks through the fields. He would have known the other children his age and the people of the village. He would have grown up as any other boy would have grown.

He'd always known it, but seeing for himself the tree where he could have built an excellent treehouse, and a perfect fishing spot just feetaway, brought with it unexpected emotions of great longing and the feelings of regret and loss that could only belong to a boy cheated out of his childhood.

Harry swallowed and looked back at Sirius who was watching him with worry.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

Harry shook his head. "Don't be," he whispered. He began walking again towards the village, not waiting to see if Sirius followed. He did, and a second later the black dog was once again trotting alongside him.

As he entered the village, Harry felt a vague sense of recognition and he wondered how he had known that there would be a baker shop just around the corner, or how he recalled the huge oak tree next to the schoolyard. It was ridiculous, he knew, that he remembered them from when he'd been a baby, but somehow, he knew that he had seen this place in his dreams, he had been here before when he was sleeping. It was suddenly all so vivid in his mind. The little girls playing hopscotch, the fountain in the center of the village, the bookshop, the grocer...

They passed through the entire place, just a strange boy and his dog; out for a walk in the country, it seemed. No one stopped Harry, no one spoke to him, no one's eyes lit up for even a second of recognition, seeing a younger version of a man they might once have known. And the whole time, Harry went on, with the knowledge that had things turned out differently, people would have waved at him as he was running along, the grocer might have given him apples for free in the mornings, and the baker would always have a kind word. If things had been different he would never have been famous. Instead he would have just been Harry.

He continued past the outskirts of the village. Somehow he knew that the place he was going to was outside the boundaries of town. He was going somewhere he knew well. A place he felt his blood drawing him to. There was a strong sense of love, somewhere near, and Harry's heart pulled at him to reach it. He couldn't explain why or how. It just did.

Five minutes later. Harry stood before an empty lot surrounded by a rusted fence, overgrown with grass and weeds. The only proof there had ever once been a house were the crumbling stones scattered about. In the center was a large gap that still looked as though it were newly charred. Somehow, Harry knew that it would always stay that way. The mark of pure evil was never removed with ease.

Passing through an opening in the fence that surrounded what used to be his home, he slowly began to walk among the various stones, walking as if in a dream, as he was sure he must be. This had been his home. He had been born here, in this place that was now only a ruin. For a moment Harry paused. That seemed to be how he left everything he touched these days. In ruins.He sighed and continued walking, now bending to touch a stone, now stopping and gazing off into the distance where he seemed to lose himself to his thoughts.

When he reached the charred black spot he stopped. It was here. Here was where he could feel his mother's love for him coming from, and Harry sighed. Even in the darkest evil, there was always a glimmer of hope.

Harry fell to his knees and sat, staring at the center of the spot for what seemed to be eternity, longing for a past that would never be his and a life that evil had taken from him. His mind was swirling, his thoughts scattered. His heart ached and breathing became difficult. But then, after what seemed a lifetime, the strangest thing happened. By some ancient magic that lives in the heart of every being, Harry began to remember.

Laughter. And light. A glint of bright red.

"Harry." Someone whispered into his ear and he could hear that whoever had spoken was smiling. He clutched at the red, but to no avail, and then he was being whirled around a room, the sound of laughter stronger than before, and was overwhelmed by a feeling of complete safety. He was safe, he knew, held in his mother's arms. Safe from anything that could ever befall him. He didn't know how he knew. It was simply a magic in his heart.

"Oh, Harry! Look what a good boy you are! You're my darling! I'll always love you." And again the sound of the purest laughter Harry had ever heard. A sound that rang like stars and bells and was the embodiment of hope itself.

And then he was being lowered down into soft blankets that enveloped him in warmth. From somewhere above him came his mother's voice in a song that he was sure he should know. And he closed his eyes as he listened to a lullaby made of pure serenity, as it seemed.

"Sleep and dream, little one, of Earth and Sky,

Drift away to peace, close your eyes,

Just sleep and dream, little one, never fear,

Cry not, child, I am here.

Forever know that dreams live on,

So keep them safe within your heart,

Just sleep and dream, little one, fear not the dark,

For Light will always darkness part."

As he began to drift off a hand ruffled his hair. "He does have my hair, doesn't he, Lily?"

A chuckle and then, "Yes, he does, poor dear!"

"Hey! That's not very nice, is it?" Another chuckle. "Well, at least he has your eyes." A pause. "Your beautiful eyes..."

Beautiful eyes...

Beautiful eyes...

Harry looked up again and was startled to find himself far away from the warm blankets and laughter that still rang clear in his ears. He lifted a hand to his eyes. He was crying. He quickly wiped the tears away, but his hand rested on his scar for a moment. It tingled with his mother's magic, so close to where it had saved him. He had felt, for a moment, that nothing could ever touch him, his mother had loved him so...

The memory had been so vivid, as though he had been there only a moment before. And his mother had sang him lullabies... The tune remained clear and haunting him in his mind. He'd dream about that tune when he slept, he knew.

Harry reached his hand up further and touched his hair. He smiled.

"I don't mind having your hair, dad." He whispered and tears filled his eyes once again, but this time, he didn't brush them away. He let them fall free as he stood up and walked to a nearby patch of flowers that had begun to grow in between a cluster of stones off to his left.

He picked a handful of small soft-petaled purple flowers and returned to the dark circle, where he laid them out in the middle.

"Mum, Dad," he began, not knowing quite what to say, but trusting he'd find the right words. "Thank you. Thank you for watching over me everyday. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for saving me. And thank you for giving me a chance to live." Harry took a deep breath. "I'll try my best to make you happy, and I know things are going to be hard from now on..." He swallowed and paused to catch his breath. "But I know you're there somewhere, still looking out for me. I know you still love me, and I want you to know, that I could never love anyone like I do you."

Harry paused, feeling he had something else to say. He remembered. "Thank you for giving me Sirius as a godfather. He's taking very good care of me and I- and I love him very much."

He heard Sirius whine from outside the gate and looked back to see him looking at Harry with a look that could only be described as love, as well. Harry smiled at him and turned back. He looked at the flowers and sighed.

Just sleep and dream, little one, fear not the dark,

For Light will always darkness part...

"Thank you." He whispered.

As Harry finished, a strong wind came and swept the flowers away, picking them up and floating them out of sight. Harry lifted his face to the wind and watched them go, longing to fly away as well.

He stood for a few more seconds and then turned back to Sirius. His godfather was looking at him, his head cocked to the side. He walked out the gateway and turned, looking back at what could have been, not seeing the ruins but instead the lost memories that would never be.

"Come on." Harry said. "Let's go home."

~*~

The trip back to the Full Moon passed by in a haze and blur. Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely realized where he was going. His visit in Godric's Hollow had left him so many things to dwell on.

After they had left the village, he and Sirius had stopped next to the stream a short distance away and had eaten lunch, which they had bought in town. They had eaten in silence. Harry found he didn't quite want to share the memory he'd had before. It was something he wished to keep to himself for always. Like a treasured possession, and even though it wasn't tangible, Harry suddenly felt it was his most precious one. He finally had a memory of his parents other than their final moments. He could think about them as they had been when they were happy. It was something he had never dreamed of having.

When they had finished lunch Harry and Sirius had walked back to the muggle bus stop and waited for their ride. And then once on the bus, Harry was so caught up in thinking that Sirius had to give Harry's hand a nibble when he almost missed the stop. Harry had apologized profusely once they were off and walking back to Lupin's. But Sirius had only wagged his tail in understanding and continued leading the way.

It was a forty-five minute walk from town to Lupin's, which was far away from any place remotely populated, so they had a while to go. When they were at a safe distance, Sirius transformed back into his human self, glancing at Harry momentarily before looking back at the road ahead wordlessly.Harry noticed his godfather's curious, almost worried glance. He realized he'd been acting aloof all afternoon, and he pitied Sirius. He probably wasn't being very good company.

"Sirius?" Harry finally asked.

Sirius seemed relieved to be able to talk and answered, "Yes?" almost as soon as Harry had opened his mouth. Harry grinned.

"I'm sorry I've been so out... I've just been thinking." He looked at his godfather apologetically.

"It's fine, Harry. You've every right to your own thoughts, after all." Sirius smiled a wolf-like smile. "My job, as your godfather, is simply to try to understand them... and it's not usually easy..." He trailed off.

Harry chuckled. "No, I suppose it isn't. I have enough trouble trying to understand them myself sometimes." He sighed. "Look," he began sternly, "don't feel bad about taking me to Godric's Hollow and not telling me first. Truth is, I understand why you did. It really isn't a place you should come to in sadness; that would just be another victory to Voldemort." Harry sighed again and looked off into the distance, not really seeing anything. "I knew it, Sirius," he said after a moment's silence.

Sirius looked at him questioningly. "What?" He asked.

Harry stopped walking and looked at him. "I knew Godric's Hollow." Harry's voice held wonder and disbelief. "I knew every turn,I knew every shop, tree. I knew the people, Sirius. I'd dreamed them before, though I can't remember when or where..." Sirius was listening intently. "I knew exactly where I was going. It was almost as if- as if..." Harry swallowed not knowing how to finish the sentence.

"As if you'd never left there at all?" Sirius finished for him. Harry looked at him gratefully.

"Yes," he answered. "As if I'd never left there at all.I could see how things would have been if Voldemort had never killed them, Sirius." Harry's voice was pained. "And I knew it could have been wonderful." Harry's eyes became unfocused as he recalled his memory. If his parent's had lived, his whole life could have been like that. Laughter and songs, warm memories and peace. There would have always been happiness in the house, and he would never have been alone. And if he ever awoke from a nightmare, shivering and afraid, he would have had a mother and father there to comfort him.

Sirius did not press the subject anymore, sensing that Harry had said all he wanted to, and Harry was silently grateful. And so they continued walking on steadily until they reached the Full Moon.

Harry went up to his room right after saying hi to everyone and telling them they were back. Arabella had a hug and chocolate chip cookies ready for Harry, which he took up to his room with him, very much obliged.

He climbed the stairs alone to his temporary bedroom, the plate of cookies in one hand and a tall glass of milk in the other. Arabella was always feeding him, non-stop, saying he was much too thin and scrawny. He thought it was very funny, but so did everyone else, as they watched her pile food on Harry's plate at every meal as though he was starving. Of course, he always finished everything, and Harry had come to the conclusion that Arabella was right. Boys his age needed to eat. Upon his arrival at Lupin's, Harry had discovered a constant hunger that never really seemed to let up. At the Dursley's he had never been allowed to eat what he wanted, when he wanted it and he never looked forward to meals. Here, he found himself ravenous. It was doing him only good, though. He had tried on his robes the other day to find them much too short for him. He couldn't recall them being small at Hogwarts, so this sudden growth spurt must have come upon him during the past few weeks. He imagined he was as tall as Ron had been last time he'd seen him. But he also knew that if he had grown, Ron definitely had during the summer. He was sure next time he saw him, Ron would be very near six feet tall.

He chuckled to himself, imagining how hard it would be for Ron to cower before Mrs., Weasley next time he got in trouble. And knowing Ron, it probably happened several times a week.

Harry reached his room and pushed the door open with his elbow, setting the cookies and milk on a great wooden desk across from his bed. He left them untouched as he went over to his trunk and dug through his things before pulling out the gifts he had received from his parents for his birthday.

He went and sat down on his bed, cross-legged, setting the gifts before him. He just looked at them for a moment, before picking up his father's pocket-watch, running his fingers over the lion's mane and eyes, the red and gold glinting like fire. And when he lifted the lid, he once again saw the names of three hundred years of ancestors glinting back at him, and his name at the end of the list. He felt honored to be placed there along with his father's name, and he wasn't quite sure he deserved it. His father, who had given his life to protect him and his mother. That was true heroism and bravery. Each time he'd faced Voldemort, he'd had no one to protect but himself.

But wait. That wasn't exactly true. In his second year, he had saved Ginny, Ron's little sister from Tom Riddle. Voldemort as he had been when he was young.

Realization hit him. He had been willing to risk his life to save someone. He sat dazed as he thought of it. He had never thought his actions sogreat as everyone else made them out to be. In his eyes, they weren't great at all. They were just things he'd done to survive. After all, it wasn't his fault a crazed maniac was after him, and he had to protect himself. But then as he remembered all the events connected to the Chamber of Secrets, he recalled his fear and the sick feeling in his stomach when he understood that Ginny might be dead, and his determination to find her and bring her back, alive. If he hadn't gone in after her, no one would have thought any less of him. So why had he? Why had he walked straight into danger to save someone he hadn't even been sure was still there? Someone he had barely known?

He stood from the bed abruptly, his parent's gifts forgotten, as he pondered the possible answers to these questions. Unthinkingly he walked over to the desk and picked up a cookie, munching as he sat down there, deep in thought.

Why had he been so afraid to lose Ginny Weasley?

He didn't know, but he had a funny feeling in his stomach, one that nagged to be noticed. He ignored it and continued munching.

He'd gone down to the Chamber, fought a Basilisk and young Voldemort, been poisoned, saved from death at the last moment, and almost had his memory obliterated. All to save a little redheaded girl he'd only known as one of the Weasleys. Why?

He decided he'd been afraid for the Weasleys and hadn't wanted them to lose part of their family. But truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure he believed that himself.

Harry grabbed for another cookie, but found he'd already eaten them all. His stomach grumbled, demanding more food.

Harry looked at his watch. It was nearly time for dinner. He and Sirius had been out for most of the day, even though it hadn't seemed long at all.

His stomach grumbled again. Harry sighed and decided he'd go down and help whoever was making dinner.

Down in the kitchen, he found Sirius stirring a pot on the stove that smelled like heaven to Harry. He looked inside the oven to find a fresh loaf of bread baking, and found a pudding on the counter being kept cool by a Frigiding charm.

Harry walked up to the stove and looked down at what Sirius was stirring. It was a simple stew, but one that Harry was sure would fill him up for at least a few hours.

Sirius laughed at the look of anticipation on Harry's face.

"Hungry, are you?" He asked, amused.

"Starving," Harry replied simply.

"Well, we'll be eating in five minutes. Go set out the napkins," came Arabella's stern voice from behind them.

Harry went to follow her orders, but couldn't help smiling as he caught a glimpse of Arabella giving Sirius a quick kiss on the cheek right before he was out the door.

Ten minutes later everyone but Fiddle, who was out doing some important research on ancient defense techniques, was seated about the table. Harry was already digging in, deciding he could pile his plate without Arabella having to help him.

There was a flap of wings as Harry cut himself a slice of the freshly baked bread and he looked up momentarily as a barn owl flew to Fletcher and set the "Evening Prophet" before him. Harry went back to buttering his bread, which he deigned much more interesting. Fletcher picked up the paper as he lifted his glass to his lips. But a second later he spit his pumpkin juice out in shock, staring at the paper as if it were a Death Eater. Everyone fell silent.

"Good Gryffindor," was all Fletcher was able to say, his eyes widened in horror.

Harry glanced over at Sirius who, he could see, had stiffened noticeably. His voice was without emotion as he said, "Fletcher, give me the paper."

Fletcher's hands shook as he did so, and Sirius took the paper from him with foreboding. Harry watched him as he glanced at the title and then saw all of the blood leave his face, leaving him pallid and white. The haunted look that Harry knew so well had entered his godfather's eyes, and in that moment Harry was afraid, very afraid.

Sirius looked up suddenly from the paper, straight at Harry.

"Harry..." he croaked, his voice raspy. Harry's heart beat picked up pace.

"What is it?" He asked, in a voice so soft he barely heard himself.

Sirius's hands shook just as Fletcher's had as he handed Harry the evening paper. Harry didn't want to look at it, but he knew he had to.

He hadn't imagined anything as bad as what he read there.

Death Eater Attack in Diagon Alley: Seven Killed, Nineteen Injured:

This morning, shopping began as any other morning in Diagon Alley.

Stores opened, and people flooded in, to shop for the coming school term.

It was precisely 12:37 when the first screams were heard. Twenty Death

Eater's had apparated into the main section of Diagon Alley and sent

curses flying to any that stood before them, among those curses, the Killing

Curse. It was massacre such as has not been seen since the days when He-

Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in power, leaving seven killed and many

more injured.

"One moment I was buying rat spleen and the next, people were screaming

and running away as quickly as they could. I went outside and was almost

hit with the Cruciatus Curse," exclaimed a shaking witch before breaking

down sobbing and then led away by mediwizards who appeared at the scene

of the crime moments after the Death Eaters had disapparated.

It is still unknown as to whether the attack was planned by someone other than

the Death Eaters themselves, or whether there is a possibility of more attacks

following the tragic one that took place this afternoon.

As Harry finished reading, he found he couldn't breathe and he was clutching the paper, as though it were a life preserver, anchoring him to where he sat. He looked up at Sirius with fear in his eyes, sure that he was as pale as Sirius was.

"No," was all Harry could whisper. His fear was overpowering. He was shaking.

The Weasleys. They'd been in Diagon Alley today.

"We don't know that anything happened to them, Harry," Sirius replied, trying to sound sure of himself but belying his words when his voice cracked. His eyes were wide with the fear Harry felt as well.

It seemed hours passed in a matter of seconds. Harry didn't know what to do. Horrible scenarios rushed through his mind, unbidden. Scenarios of the Weasleys in the line of fire, of Mrs. Weasley screaming, of Ron lying unconscious on the ground.

Harry stood up quickly, but grabbed at the table when the floor swayed below his feet. His vision blurred and for a moment, Harry thought he was going to black out. But a moment later he regained control of himself and stood up straight. He had to do something, anything, but what?

He didn't have to do anything because a second later a gray owl flew into the room carrying a letter, and Harry immediately recognized it as Hermes, Percy's owl.

Hermes landed in front of Harry and stuck out a leg, where Harry saw a letter attached. He untied it as quickly as he could with trembling fingers, afraid of what he might discover.

When the letter was freed, Harry slowly unfolded it, not wanting to read but knowing he had to.

But he felt his heart stop beating and the world collapse around him as he read the first three words.

Harry:

It´s Ginny.