This is dedicated to GingerPaws, who made it all possible.:-) Thx!
This story starts at the end of the 5th book. Every one is home for the holidays.
Harry sat on a ledge, wondering what would happen next. With Sirius dead, it seemed nothing would ever be the same. He briefly wondered if the hole in his chest would ever go away and let him get on with his life. He thought briefly of asking Hermione for advice, but she would probably give him some fancy advice, like the stages of grief and acceptance. Or a heavy text book. Ron's advice would be different, but probably equally unhelpful. After all, Ron was the Ron Weasly. He wasn't good with feelings.
This is from Hermione's point of view. This is Hermione, at her house.
'I wonder how Harry is dealing with Sirius's death…. I have a lovely book I could give him on the acceptance of death…. But this is Harry… He wouldn't want a book.'
She wondered briefly how Ron would be if Harry came back moody and aggressive as a result of Sirius's death. She hoped not.
Ron's point of view. Ron's house.
'Poor Harry… I would hate to be him, the poor mate.'
But at the precise moment, Fred and George rushed in, showing off new inventions for a joke shop in planning, and Harry's problem instantly left Ron's mind.
The next morning. Harry's house.
"GET DOWN HERE YOU WORTHLESS RUNT!" An extremely irritated Uncle Vernon screamed up the stairs. Harry rose with a start. The little sleep he had got had been punctuated by night mares of Sirius. Many of them involved locked doors and empty hall ways with the voice of Sirius screaming "Help me Harry! He's got me Harry! HELP ME!" Harry slowly rose, and faced the deadly affair of breakfast.
This is my first ever fanfic… Plz review, but don't be to rough…. Once again, thank you sooo much Ginger paws for making this possible. Thanks!