A Reflection of Himself

January arrived cold and full of snow just as it had every year before, and before Harry knew it, students had returned to Hogwarts and classes had resumed. Dumbledore had informed him the last day of holidays that there would be another Order meeting on January 15, and so, January 15 had arrived, and Harry now found himself standing once again in Grimmauld Place.

He had arrived early, having decided to come with Lupin. Althought the Floo Network at Hogwarts was not normally open to outside fireplaces, a temporary connection was made whenever there was an Order meeting, since there were a fair number of people who needed to travel from Hogwarts to Grimmauld Place. Lupin was casually walking the length of one of the hallways, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet, while Harry stood there, silently watching him. He was right next to the stairway that led upstairs, and as Harry suddenly felt the urge to use the loo, he excused himself, to which Lupin simply nodded.

As Harry ascended the stairs, he heard Lupin's voice call after him, saying, "Don't be too long, Harry. The meeting will be starting promptly at eight."

"All right," Harry called back.

As he came to the second level, Harry's eyes had to adjust to the darkness before he could see. If he had been allowed to practice magic outside of school, he would have simply muttered "Lumos" and used his glowing wand to guide him, but he didn't think alerting the Ministry to the misuse of magic over something so trivial was worth risking losing his wand. Harry continued down the hallway until he came to the door that he knew led to the bathroom. He recalled staying in one of the many rooms in the large house the previous year, and so, Harry knew his way around well enough.

After Harry had finished, he quietly closed the door behind him and stopped once he was in the hallway again. At the very end of the hallway, the end furthest from the stairway, Harry noticed a narrow door. He had never ventured to open said door on any previous occasion. He had thought it to be just a closet or a storage room, but now, for some unknown reason, Harry's curiosity was getting the best of him. He found himself quickly approaching the door, hoping to find out just what lay beyond it.

Surely it wouldn't hurt just to peek?

Harry tentatively reached for the doorknob, and once his hand came to rest on it, clutching it tightly, Harry froze in mid-action, not entirely sure if what he was doing was wise. He knew that the house had an attic, for Sirius had at once time mentioned it when he dismissed Kreacher as simply hiding out in it when the house elf's whereabouts were unknown. Harry had never actually seen the attic, and as he found himself turning the knob and opening the door, which creaked in protest, his eyes focused upon a narrow stairway that led up into darkness.

If he were wiser, perhaps Harry would have turned around and left the attic alone, but he felt as if something inside of him were urging him on. He knew he had only a few minutes before the beginning of the Order meeting, and to be late would not be looked upon kindly, but Harry brought his left foot forward and placed it on the first step. Step by step, Harry went up the stairs until he came to the top, where he noticed a lone window, from which a small amount of starlight shone into the otherwise black and dreary room.

Harry had been back to this house at least five times since Sirius had died, and although it still hurt to be reminded of the fact that Sirius had once lived within these very walls, Harry found himself seeking some sort of comfort here as well. He was walking where Sirius had walked, and now, perhaps being up in this dusty, forgotten attic, Harry could be discovering a place that Sirius might have perused many years ago.

As his eyes adjusted, Harry noticed that there were several old pieces of furniture, mostly covered with sheets, lining the walls. A few trunks were placed here and there among the ancient tables and chairs, and Harry wondered just what he might find hidden within them. He took a few steps toward one, intent on opening it, when something shining off in the distance in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The small amount of starlight that was permitted into the room was reflecting off something in a corner. Harry turned to face it and noticed that whatever it was had been mostly covered by a large, moldy cloth. The light was reflecting off a shiny corner of the covered object, and yet again, Harry felt like he was being called over to explore further.

Harry was now standing immediately in front of the covered object, which was flat and rectangular in shape and about three feet high and two feet wide. Removing the covering, Harry coughed as large amounts of dust particles were released into the air. When the air cleared, and he finished coughing, Harry's eyes rested upon a framed painting, but it was turned away, and so Harry couldn't see what or who the painting was. Part of his mind told him that it would be foolish to turn the painting around. What if it was another painting of that horrid Mrs. Black? The last thing Harry needed was to hear her ear-piercing, gut-wretching shrieks and screams. Taking a deep breath and swallowing slowly, Harry reached for the frame. He closed his eyes and turned it around.

Opening his eyes, Harry found himself locked eye-to-eye with the person in the portrait. Harry's own large eyes were in fact mirrored by the portrait's own oversized ones. Harry wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry, for what he saw was simply unbelievable. Staring back at him with just as much shock was none other than Sirius Black. Taking a few calming breaths, Harry leaned toward the portrait and examined it closer. Harry could have sworn that the portrait Sirius's eyes had been larger upon first glance, but as he stared at his late godfather's face, he realized all too soon that Sirius was not moving.

Studying his godfather's face for any sign of animation, Harry noticed that the portrait displayed a young version of Sirius, perhaps when he was only about Harry's age, but with chagrin coating his features, Harry frowned and looked down. He sat down on the floor in front of the portrait and gazed longingly into it. He had given up on finding a means to communicate with Sirius months ago, and just when he thought he had found a way when he least expected it, Harry was only left feeling alone and empty. He was too drained to cry any more tears over Sirius's death, for as time passed, that hollow feeling inside just seemed to have become a part of him.

Sighing heavily, Harry knew that he was needed downstairs. Reaching toward Sirius's young, handsome face, Harry made to brush his hand across his godfather's cheek in a sad, affectionate gesture. When the face suddenly withdrew to one side of the painting and grinned at him, Harry flinched and drew back his hand. He would have probably screamed had his voice not disappeared somewhere within his throat.

Bark-like laughter errupted from the portrait as Sirius said, "It's about time you found me, Harry! Gee, how long does a bloke have to wait, hmmm?"

Now Harry thought himself either dreaming or going insane. Was this truly possible? He tried pinching himself, to which Sirius only laughed harder.

"Really, Harry, I thought you'd have more to say to me after all these months," Sirius chided in mock hurt.

"But you-" Harry sputtered. "You're... I mean, Sirius... How- how is it possible? I mean... is it really you?"

Harry was awe-struck with disbelief. He had been dreaming of this day for so long, and now that it had come, he simply found himself at a loss for words or understanding.

"C'mon, Harry," Sirius replied, shaking his head. "You're not that daft. You mean to tell me that the son of James Potter doesn't know that painted portraits are a means for the dead to communicate with the living? Surely you remember that old crone of a mother who hung in the hall... or what about my dear great-great (I think it was two greats) grandfather, ol' Phineas?"

Harry nodded slowly, comprehension slowly dawning. Of course Harry knew that paintings could talk, but he had long ago given up hope of ever finding a portrait of Sirius. It was a small miracle that the Blacks hadn't destroyed every last picture of Sirius. After all, his name had been erased from the Family Tree that hung downstairs. Harry supposed that placing Sirius's portrait up in the attic in some cold, forgotten corner, left to face the wall and be covered (for good measure on their part, of course) was just as cruel.

"Sirius," Harry finally managed, choking on his words, "I- I never thought I'd see you again."

Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out and embrace his godfather at that very moment, but he knew that was impossible. Although he could talk to Sirius, he could do nothing more.

"Harry," Sirius said evenly, sobering from his earlier mood, "I had nearly given up myself. See, as far as I know, this is the only painting of me that remains. My horrible parents had them all either burned or shredded. I'm surprised they didn't do the same to this one."

Harry nodded, thinking the exact same thing. "It's wonderful to see you again, Sirius," Harry said, "but I'm afraid I have to go back downstairs. See, there's an Order meeting and-"

But Harry was cut off by another voice.

"Harry?" the voice called from somewhere near the stairway. It was Lupin.

"Moony!" Sirius exclaimed without being able to help himself.

Lupin started. Had he just heard his late friend's voice? He asked in a faint, trembling whisper, "Padfoot?"

"Over here, you great wolf!" Sirius barked jovially. He seemed to enjoy teasing those who found him.

Lupin warily approached Harry. The werewolf's eyes were more accustomed to the dark than that of a regular human, so Lupin quickly saw both Harry seated on the floor and the portrait of Sirius.

"S- Sirius?" Lupin choked, tears prickling at his eyes.

"Yes, Remus, it's me," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "How are you holding up, old friend?"

Lupin took a seat next to Harry and stared at Sirius with his mouth gaping open. He slowly overcame his initial shock and remarked, "So you're the reason Harry is late to the meeting, Padfoot. Typical of you to cause trouble, whether you be alive or dead."

Lupin smiled wryly, and Sirius returned the smile. Sitting there, Harry looked between the two friends and knew that his wish wasn't the only one that had been granted that memorable day. They exchanged words for a few more minutes, but then Lupin suddenly realized once again why he had been sent up here in the first place.

"Harry," Lupin suddenly said, "we really must be getting back downstairs. I'm sorry, Padfoot," Lupin continued, looking apologetically at his friend.

"But what about Sirius?" Harry questioned. "We can't just leave him up here!"

"Then what would you suggest?" Lupin countered.

"Why not bring Sirius downstairs to join the meeting? He's still a member of the Order, right?"

Lupin looked from Harry to Sirius, who was grinning mischievously.

"Harry does have a point, Moony," Sirius pointed out. "Besides, it's been a while since I've had the, er, dare I say, pleasure of laughing at one of Snivellus's oh-so-important reports," he chuckled.

Lupin rolled his eyes, and Harry tried to suppress a laugh.

"Well," Lupin sighed, "I suppose..."

"Oh, c'mon, my friend... I could use some company. What's a dead bloke gotta do? Surely you don't expect me to just spend another six months in the dark, do you?"

"Of course not," Lupin frowned. "It's just that, well- " he hesitated, "well, won't people be a bit startled?"

"So?" Sirius implored.

"C'mon, Remus," Harry practically begged Lupin. "Everyone'll be glad to see Sirius again... well, mostly everyone," Harry added, trying to imagine the look on Snape's pale face upon seeing Sirius again.

"All right, all right!" Lupin exclaimed. "I surrender!" he joked, waving his arms in the air.

"Good," Harry and Sirius both replied simultaneously.

Harry picked up the painting with the assistance of Lupin, and together, they transported the painted Sirius downstairs. They walked down a hallway and came to the door to the meeting room. Lupin pushed the door open with his foot, for both of his hands were being used to hold the painting, and as the door opened, Dumbledore stood up and gave both Lupin and Harry a questioning stare.

"Remus, Harry, what is that meaning of this?" he demanded. "You both realize that you have delayed the meeting at least twenty minutes."

"Yes, some of us only have so much time," McGonagall added tartly. "I'll have you know that I have a whole stack of essays to grade by tomorrow just waiting for me upon my return to Hogwarts this evening."

Stepping into the room, Lupin and Harry both looked at the rest of the people, most of who appeared impatient or annoyed or both.

"I can explain, Headmaster," Lupin began. "See, Harry was up in the attic and-"

"The attic?!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "My dear child, what were you thinking, going up there? It could have been dangerous!"

The matronly woman was standing up, but Mr. Weasley calmly reached for her arm and gently pulled her back to her chair.

Sirius's face was not facing the direction of the room yet, but he could hear the commotion. He thought he would keep silent until Lupin and Harry had a chance to explain, but then he heard Snape's voice suddenly sneer, "Of course it's nothing new. Mr. Potter has made a habit of breaking rules, and now it appears that Lupin is assisting him. How thoughtful of you, Lupin," he remarked sarcastically."

That pushed Sirius too far. "Turn me around!" he demanded.

Several people with the room started upon hearing the foreign voice, not knowing where it was coming from. Even Snape appeared unnerved, but when Lupin and Harry obediently turned Sirius's portrait around to face the rest of the room, several gasps were heard.

"I think your mouth must be just as big as your nose, Snivellus," Sirius yelled at Snape, who was now searing with rage upon seeing Sirius's face.

Snape reached for his wand and approached the portrait very quickly. The others were left standing still in shock. Sirius furrowed his brow and fixed Snape with a glare of purest loathing.

"What d'you intend to do, Snape?" Sirius baited him. "Hex me? I'm not a person anymore. Spells like that won't work on me."

"Actually," Snape said smoothly, "I had rather thought a nice tear down the middle of your lovely painting might shut you up for good."

"No!" Harry bellowed, standing in front of Sirius's portrait. Lupin stood next to Harry, his expression making it clear that he would not move.

"He's defenseless!" Harry practically screamed at Snape. "How could you be so cruel as to even suggest such a thing?! I finally find a way to talk to my godfather after all these months, and just because the two of you can't get along, you feel the need to more or less end whatever last bit of life he has among the living?!"

Dumbledore approached the scene and fixed them all with a stern gaze. "That will be quite enough," he said firmly. "Severus, sit down. We have a meeting to hold, in case any of you had forgotten. Remus, Harry... Sirius... we will discuss this after the meeting."

Not another word was spoken on the subject as Snape resumed his seat, and Harry and Lupin took theirs on the other side of the room. Sirius kept silent, but when Snape gave his report, he bit back the urge to throw an insult or two at the man.

Once the meeting had ended, Dumbledore wished everyone well on their way. Several people welcomed Sirius as they walked past his portrait, and before long, only Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin, Harry, and Sirius were left in the room.

"First of all," Dumbledore began, "I would like to welcome you back, Sirius. It would be wonderful if you could be here during all the meetings."

"Thank you, sir," Sirius replied.

"Secondly," the old wizard continued, "while this is quite a find, Remus and Harry, that does not excuse your tardiness. I would hope that in the future you would both conduct yourselves better."

They nodded and muttered, "Yes, sir."

"And finally," Dumbledore concluded, sounding very worn out and annoyed as well, "on the grounds of appropriate conduct, that outburst earlier was completely unnecessary. We are here to discuss ways to help fight for what is right in this war, and I will not have petty arguments during these meetings. To be a part of the Order of the Phoenix is an honor, and I would hope that you would all take it as such. I have entrusted all of you with valuable information, and what is more, I have entrusted all of you with my friendship. To me, every member of the Order of not just my ally; he is my friend. As such, I believe you all to be worthy of my trust and to uphold the dignity to the positions to which you have been called in this war. If we cannot place side our differences among our own ranks, how can we ever expect to win when it comes time to face the enemy?"

Dumbledore fixed them all with a penetrating, icy, blue-eyed gaze. There was no doubt in any man's mind upon looking at Albus Dumbledore when he was like this that he was indeed a very powerful wizard.

The others nodded, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

"Good," the Headmaster said simply. His regularly sunny disposition suddenly returned, and he turned for the door. "Good night, then, gentlemen," he said and was gone.

While Lupin and Harry reached for the portrait to move Sirius to a better place, Snape wasted no time in booking out the door as quickly as possible. He didn't look back. He knew he could have Flooed back to Hogwarts, but he had no desire to return there too quickly. He stepped outside into the cold air and pulled his black frock coat up higher until it covered most of his face. Stalking away from the house as quickly as he could in the snow, Snape finally stopped and disapparated.

Back inside, Lupin and Harry both looked at Sirius sadly, knowing that they would have to leave soon.

"Isn't there something we could do?" Harry practically begged Lupin.

"Well," Lupin sighed, "we could place a shrinking charm on Sirius and transport him back to Hogwarts that way, and as for where to keep him-"

"What about your private chambers, Moony?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"I know what you're thinking, Padfoot," Lupin lectured his friend, "and no, I'm not going to place you on the wall inside my bedroom, not for you to simply tell me that I snore and am keeping you up all night. Perhaps my office, then?"

Sirius considered this and agreed.

Harry beamed. He finally had his godfather back... in a way, anyway. Lupin performed the necessary charm to shrink Sirius's portrait, and Lupin placed him inside his pocket and Flooed back to his office at Hogwarts. Harry followed suit.

Meanwhile, a very sour Severus Snape was sitting in the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade, sulking over a bottle of Odgen's. He muttered under his breath and took another swig of the whiskey. It was all he could do at the moment to drown out the world around him.