Please be nice to me, as this is my first fanfiction although I have had this story swimming in my head for year :) I like constructive criticism and I would LOVE to have a beta reader (hint hint).

Disclaimer – I own none of the Harry Potter Characters

This starts off immediately after Harry and Dumbledore leave Professor Slughorn's house in Half-Blood Prince

'If you would take my arm again Harry,' said Dumbledore, offering him his left arm. Obligingly Harry took it, bracing himself for the unpleasantness of apparition.

Gasping and wheezing into the unnaturally cold and foggy July air, Harry slowly brought the buildings around him into focus.

'Hogsmede?' he asked quickly, but Dumbledore merely smiled, glancing at his arm. Harry followed his gaze and quickly relinquished his death grip on the Headmaster's arm.

'Sorry Sir', he muttered, glad that the night hid his burning cheeks.

'This way Harry', stated Dumbledore, setting without preamble so that Harry had to jog to keep up with the wizard's long, powerful strides.

Despite the lateness of the hour wisps of drunken singing could be heard. The barman of the Hog's Head was sitting outside his own pub, contemplating a long pipe, from which thick smoke was emitted. He nodded at Dumbledore and gave the quick, customary glance at Harry, his eyes resting on his scar for a split second.

Although Harry had many questions to ask, he sensed that this was neither the time nor place. Instead he meekly followed Dumbledore through the no doubt heavily warded Hogwarts gates and through the empty castle, coming to a halt in front of the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

'Weasley Wizard Wheezes', said Dumbledore clearly. Harry shot a glance at him wondering if he was meant to respond, before realising that this was the password. They ascended the spiral staircase in silence, and it was not until they had sat down and Harry offered the usual lemon drops that Dumbledore broke the silence.

'I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it, Harry, but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you seem to be coping after everything that happened at the Ministry. Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you.'

Harry swallowed; his voice seemed to have deserted him. He did not think he could stand to discuss Sirius. It had been painful enough to hear Uncle Vernon say 'His godfather's dead?'; even worse to hear Sirius's name thrown out so casually by Slughorn.

'It was cruel,' said Dumbledore softly, 'that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship.'

Harry nodded, his eyes fixed resolutely on the whirring and puffing instruments behind Dumbledore's desk. He could tell that Dumbledore understood, that he might even suspect that until his letter arrived Harry had spent nearly all his time at the Dursleys' lying on his bed, refusing meals and staring at the misted window, full of the chill emptiness that he had come to associate with Dementors.

'But while I was at the Dursleys',' said Harry, 'I realised I can't shut myself away or – or crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway life's too short, there's the prophecy and everything but I'll make sure that when my time comes I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can and Voldemort too if I can manage it'.

'Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody about the prophecy?'

'No,' said Harry

'A wise decision, on the whole,' said Dumbledore. 'Although I think you ought to relax it in front of your friends, Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger.'

Harry nodded.

'You will be pleased to know,' continued Dumbledore, 'due to concerns for your safety you will be spending the remainder of your holidays at Hogwarts with a suitable guardian, and with Mrs Weasley's discretion Miss Granger, Mr Weasley and Miss Weasley will be allowed to visit you as you please. I hope you have fun with the latter-

'The latter Sir?' question Harry

'Miss Weasley, Harry, quite frankly I believe that Miss Granger has eyes for someone else. 'Forgive me,' he said hurriedly, noticing the rising blush on Harry's cheeks.

'That's –' , Harry began, but at that moment the door was flung open and a deathly pale Snape staggered in, dressed in robes of pure black and clutching dark cloth in his hand. He stopped short when he saw Harry, who, out of instinct had jumped to his feet and drawn his wand. Snape made to back out but Dumbledore intervened,

'I forgot,' he said to Snape who coughed a sarcastic laugh, and asked Harry if he would excuse them for a moment. Needing no further invitation, Harry left the room, closing the door behind him and flung himself down on the plush armchair which had appeared, (not too unlike the one Slughorn had transformed into hours before).

Harry felt something digging into his back, reaching into his jeans pocket he found a pair of extendable ears, no doubt left over from his time at Grimmauld, relics of a life when he had family and didn't know the prophecy… Without further thought he untangled them and thrust them under the door to Dumbledore's office.