"…Voldemort's tactic seems to be paying off," Harry jumped as Sirius slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet down on the table. Harry took one look at it and knew immediately why Sirius was ticked off. The first thing Harry saw was his own face printed in black and white looking up at him; the next thing he saw surprised him so much he almost forgot about the pictures.

Sirius Black spotted with Death Eaters

Harry reached towards the paper and dragged it nearer to him. 'Officials claim to have seen three people in skull-masks' 'one took off his mask' 'Sirius Black was seen' 'threat to society' 'proof that Sirius helped his comrades escape'.

Harry simply stared at it for a moment, before looking up at Sirius quizzically. "They can't seriously believe this. I mean, it's completely mental."

Sirius, however, wasn't paying attention to Harry. Instead, he was staring thoughtfully at Harry's hand – the same hand that Umbridge had used her blood-quill on.

"Harry, what's that on your hand?"

Harry quickly removed his hand from the table, and hid it inside his over-large sleeve. Thank Merlin he had worn one of Dudley's old shirts today.

"It's nothing, cut myself with a quill sharpener. What's important is this article, who would have printed this?"

Sirius turned with great reluctance to look at the paper. "It seems the media is picking up where that Skeeter woman left off. They claim at least once a week they know of my whereabouts but…"

Harry knew why Sirius was more upset about this issue – he had been classified as a Death Eater and publicly humiliated. One sentence in the article even suggested that he should be killed rather than kissed. Harry figured Sirius was thinking about Wormtail, and how he had betrayed James and Lily's whereabouts to Voldemort.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Sirius grabbed the paper and crumpled it into a ball. He then proceeded to throw it against a far wall where it landed on a heap on the floor.

"Kreacher will pick it up," Sirius said, waving it aside. "It's about time he did something useful in this house. Though knowing him he'd probably hang the clipping in his den somewhere…"

Harry didn't know what to say to cheer him up, so he just nodded mutely.

"Are you okay Harry? You seem off."

Did he? "Nothing's wrong… it's just, how can everybody believe all of the crap the Prophet's publishing?"

Sirius glanced sympathetically at Harry. "The Ministry has had a good say about the matter also… the people think they're protecting them, but they're too blind to see it as it is. How are you doing in school? I heard that Umbridge woman keeps giving you detentions."

"Who'd you hear that from?"

"I have my sources," Sirius said evasively.

Harry looked away from him, focusing on a cockroach that had settled for a nap on the floor. "Yeah, she has."

"What does she make you do?" Sirius asked, leaning towards Harry.

"Just lines," Harry half-lied.

Sirius studied him intently for a moment, before sighing and leaning back in his chair. "My source told me that Umbridge woman is very strict and a big supporter of the old punishments." He sounded meaningful.

Harry didn't need to ask what Sirius meant about 'old punishments'.

"Who's your source?"

"Nobody of importance. Tell me about these detentions, what does she make you write?"

Should he tell Sirius the truth? He wasn't sure how Sirius would react, then again a few lines never hurt anybody… and Sirius seemed to be taking all of this pretty well.

"'I must not tell lies'."

Sirius's jaw clenched. "That toad."

"Definitely," Harry agreed wholeheartedly.

"Well, it happens to the best of us…" Sirius trailed off.

Harry was pretty impressed with the level of self-control Sirius had over the situation. He was usually pretty protective when it came to Harry.

"What about you?" he asked.

Sirius didn't even spare him a glance, "It's horrible, being stuck here."

"I know what you mean, it was like back when I was with the Dursleys. I didn't have a clue what was going on – in school I still feel like there's this big secret that everybody but me knows. Even Dumbledore…" Harry didn't bother to finish his sentence.

"I wish you could live with me, we could have worked this out together…"

"Why can't I?" Harry pressed. "I would love to stay here with you."

Sirius glanced at him thoughtfully. "You'd rather be here than with the Dursleys?"

"I'd rather be anywhere," Harry admitted grudgingly.

Sirius half-smirked. "I felt like that too when I was your age… you'll get over it."

"You didn't," Harry pointed out.

Sirius nodded, "You're right. I didn't. But I don't suppose you running away will be the smartest idea. When I saw you that night at the park with your trunk I didn't know back then about the wards… why did you run away to begin with?"

"It's a long story," Harry said quickly.

"I've got the time," Sirius motioned to the room. "I'm going to be stuck here for a while."

Harry looked at him before starting off on his tale. "My Aunt Marge came to visit the house. She stayed in the guest bedroom for the week. I usually skipped dinner –"

"Skipped dinner?" Sirius cut in; he had been leaning back in his chair listening but now he was sitting up straight. "No wonder you looked so thin when you got here. Why would you skip dinner?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to be near my Aunt Marge, and besides that I'm used to being secluded from meals so it wasn't that big of a deal –"

"Not that big of a deal?" Sirius interrupted again. "They starved you!"

"No!" Harry exclaimed, surprised at Sirius's reaction. He had seemed so calm before. "They didn't starve me, I had food under the loose floorboard in my room. Anyways I'm used to it."

This, it seemed, was the wrong thing to say. Sirius had jumped up from his seat and was staring at Harry as though he had suddenly turned into a duck.

"USED TO IT?" he boomed. "I'm going to kill those Dursleys!"

"Sirius, sit down!" Harry exclaimed, also getting up to push Sirius back in his seat. "You know how the Dursleys treat me, what's the matter with you?"

"I never knew that!" Sirius protested, not budging despite Harry's desperate attempts to push Sirius down. "Why didn't you tell me?" he rounded on Harry, looking surprised to see Harry pushing him, as though he hadn't been aware of him before.

"Because I thought you knew! Anyway I guessed your reaction would be something like this…"

Sirius glared at his godson for a moment before sighing and sitting back down. Harry hovered hesitantly in front of him for a moment, as though scared Sirius would suddenly jump up again, before going back over to his own seat and plopping on to it.

Sirius frowned at his godson. "You seem weaker."

Harry pulled a face, "Thanks."

"You know what I mean. You're not still having those nightmares are you?"

Harry fidgeted slightly, and Sirius took that as a yes. "Listen, you can tell me anything. You know that right?"

"I know," Harry muttered. "But sometimes you seem to react before you think."

Sirius let out a humorless laugh. "I suppose I do… but I'm your godfather, aren't I supposed to protect you?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I guess so. I didn't even know you until I was thirteen. Sorry," he added when he saw the pain flash across Sirius's face. "I know you had a good reason. That was kind of selfish."

"It wasn't selfish, Harry." Sirius said, shaking his head. "It was just the opposite. You're completely right. I shouldn't have gone after Wormtail like that – I might have been able to take care of you then. Or at least help to raise you."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. What Sirius said was true, but he didn't want to admit that to himself – Sirius always had his reasons. "It doesn't matter," Harry said, "it's in the past. We can't change it."

With that statement flashes of saving Sirius and Buckbeak with a timeturner flashed across his mind. "Okay, well sometimes you can cheat a few hours…"

Sirius snorted. "Is that how you saved me? I always wondered how you managed to get to me in time when you should have been unconscious. Where did you get one?"

Relieved with where the conversation had gone, Harry told about Hermione's timeturner to get to her classes. "She had to turn it in at the end of the year though," he explained. "They go bad after a while… she never got a new one for some strange reason," he added with a grin that Sirius returned.

"I can see why," Sirius said. "A mind like hers…"

"Yeah," Harry laughed, "though one now could come in handy." He sighed, thinking about the Dursleys.

"You could use a timeturner, couldn't you?" Sirius asked, as though reading Harry's thoughts. Harry shrugged, not bothering to comment.

"It would have been an easier summer," he said thoughtfully, "but I don't know what else good it would do. Besides, the Ministry hates my guts, remember?"

Sirius didn't respond, but he offered Harry a sad smile. "I think I have something that will cheer you up," he said suddenly. "Come look."

Curious, Harry followed Sirius out of the room and into the upstairs hallway. "Careful now," Sirius warned him in a whisper. "I just found this the other day," he informed him, looking excited.

"What is it?" Harry asked, but Sirius ignored him. They walked for about a minute in complete silence, passing the heads of the elves on the wall, and walked towards a cleaner looking part of the house. They stopped in front of a large door.

"This is my room," Sirius told him, looking at it disgustidly. "But it's a right side better than the rest of the house. It was the only other place besides James' house and Hogwarts that I called a home. I would never stick around my family unless it was absolutely necessary. Or unless the Potters were invited over."

"Your mum knew my Dad?"

Sirius didn't answer, for he was busy pulling out his wand. "Allohamora," he whispered, and the door clicked open. Sirius gave him a grin and then opened the door to his room.

"Ta-da!"

"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed, approaching his room curiously. It looked as though Sirius had gone out of his way to bother his mother. Gryffindor posters covered his walls and even the ceiling. Pictures of him at Hogwarts were taped to the wall, and Harry had the nagging feeling Sirius put them up there with magic.

"You like?" Sirius asked him, grinning at his godson.

"It's amazing," Harry said truthfully. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"No," Sirius said, the grin still on his face. "I was just getting to the good part."

He then went to the other end of the room where his dresser was. Gryffindor knickknacks were also littered on top of it. Harry watched as Sirius moved aside various objects, not even knowing what half of them were.

Finally, Sirius walked back over to him. A picture was in his hand, and as Sirius got closer, Harry could see who was in it.

"Is that -?" he thought he had lost his voice. Sirius handed him the picture. A man's legs were running in and out of the picture, and a small baby with a tuft of black hair was riding on a broom, which hovered only a couple inches off the ground. He didn't have glasses, and his forehead was scar-less, but Harry instantly recognized it as himself.

His throat felt dry, as though he hadn't had a drink in days. "This is me?" he asked after a while of examining the picture. "And that's my dad?" he pointed to the pair of legs running around, chasing after the baby Harry.

Sirius nodded, still smiling. "I thought you might like it."

"I love it, Sirius," Harry murmured, and reluctantly handed it back to Sirius, who looked confused. "What are you doing, it's yours!" he exclaimed, shoving the picture back into Harry's hands. As he did so, the sleeve of Harry's shirt slid down slightly, and the scar on his hand stood out more than ever.

Harry quickly tried to hide it, but Sirius had already seen. He snatched Harry's hand back, leaving the picture discarded on the floor where it had fallen.

For a moment he studied Harry's hand (who was desperately trying to wriggle out of his grasp), and his grip tightened almost painfully. He stared at Harry's hand, looking sick and pale.

"I thought – you said –."

His grip loosened on Harry's for a moment, and Harry took it as the opportunity to snatch his hand back. He pulled the sleeve back over it desperately, his whole being shaking.

"Sirius, only Ron and Hermione know – please don't tell anybody!" he pleaded. Sirius stared at him, his eyes wide. For once, he looked at a loss for words.

Harry waited for his response, already knowing what Sirius was going to say. He wasn't disappointed.

"Harry, I can't. You know I can't not tell the others."

Harry thought of Mrs. Weasleys face, what Fred and George would think, what Tonks and Lupin would think. He imagined their reactions, and his gut twisted painfully.

"Sirius, no, please don't tell the others," he was practically begging. "You must know what it's like to have a secret and not want to tell anybody about it."

Sirius recoiled as though Harry had slapped him. "Harry," he said, his voice low and angry. "You told me she was making you write lines."

"Well, she was, wasn't she?" Harry murmured, looking down at the floor. He could see his dad's legs running in and out of the picture, and baby Harry zooming after him. "Just not in the – traditional – way."

He wasn't looking at Sirius, but he could practically see the steam coming from his ears. "Sirius, please." He croaked. "I'm just asking this one thing from you."

Sirius looked at him hesitantly. "We should tell Dumble-"

"NO," Harry cut him off. "No, we are NOT mentioning this to Dumbledore. Absolutely not."

Sirius' brows furrowed, and he studied Harry intently. "Fine."

Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.

"Fine," Sirius repeated. "I won't tell Dumbledore. I won't tell Remus, and I won't tell the others. But you will."

Harry backed away, feeling dizzy. "What? I –"

"Harry." Harry had never heard Sirius take this tone of voice before. It reminded him of Mrs. Weasley scolding her children.

"Sirius –"

"Harry James Potter!" Sirius cut him off. "You will do as I say."

"You're not my dad!" Harry yelled back, and then instantly fell bad as Sirius' face fell.

"I know I'm not your father," Sirius all but whispered. "but you are under my roof, and I was appointed your godfather. I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you, not those – those –" he obviously couldn't think of a bad enough insult, so he continued. "Harry, if you won't tell the others, at least tell Dumbledore and Remus. They deserve to know."

"I only want you to know," Harry said stubbornly, staring at the floor, but he could already tell he was losing the battle. Sirius reached out a hand and gently lifted Harry's chin up so they were eye-to-eye. "Harry," he said slowly, "I only want what's best for you. I gave you an offer. You can either tell Dumbledore and Remus about it yourself. Or I'm telling everyone." He said simply.

Harry stared at him in fury, "you wouldn't."

"I would," Sirius said steadily, "and don't think for a minute that I'll change my mind. Remus is downstairs drinking some tea. I suggest you start with him first."

Without another word, Sirius left the room, leaving Harry to stare after him baffled.

REMUS' P.O.V

Remus stared at the crumpled ball in the corner, a frown tugging at his lips. He turned around as he heard footsteps approaching.

"Ah, hello Harry," he said pleasantly, wondering what on earth was bothering the boy. Harry looked almost as bad as he did. There was dark circles under his eyes, and he looked thinner than normal.

Harry opened his mouth, as though going to say something, but then abruptly closed it. Remus studied him curiously. "What's wrong, Harry?" he asked gently.

Harry took a deep breath, Remus could almost see the internal agony he was going through. "Sirius says I – I mean, I have to tell you something."

Remus rose an eyebrow. He knew exactly what Harry had been about to say, he just wondered what was so bad that Sirius had Harry come down and tell Remus himself.

"Well, come and sit down, Harry," he said, offering Harry a seat. Harry moved towards the table, but made no move to sit down.

Without a word, he held out his hand. At first, Remus had no clue what he was doing, but then the sight of red caught his eye. Blood, dried blood.

"Harry, what's that?" he asked, his voice turning more demanding then kind. Harry sighed. "Read it."

Remus took his hand curiously and studied it. His heart sped up with horror, which he hoped wouldn't show up on his face. Harry seemed nervous enough, and he didn't want to startle him more.

"Harry, it was very brave of you to approach me like this," he said, trying to compliment him. Harry didn't fall for the bait.

"So, Sirius knows I'm presuming?" he asked, and Harry nodded his head. "Alright, good. Harry, did Umbridge do this?"

There was a slight hesitation, and then Harry nodded again. Remus let out a sharp breath. "Alright. Okay. We're going to take you to Dumbledore."

Harry opened his mouth, but a new voice sounded from the doorway. "I already tried to convince him." Sirius walked towards them, looking gloomy. "He won't have it."

Remus turned to Harry, looking very serious. "Harry, this is something you need to tell Dumbledore about. Ah, ah!" he added as Harry opened his mouth to, most likely, protest. "This will not only affect you, but also any other person she sees fit to this method of –" he couldn't continue. "Harry, you need to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore won't want to talk to me," Harry muttered so low that even Remus had to strain to hear him.

"Why would you say that?" Remus asked gently.

"He hasn't even looked at me all year!" Harry said, his voice getting steadily louder. "He won't talk to me at all! What did I do wrong? It's his fault!" he added, his voice almost yelling.

Remus bit his lip and looked at Sirius helplessly, who gave a small sigh and spun Harry so he was facing him. He put his hands on either side of his shoulders and spoke in a low tone, "Harry, I know that you're sick and tired of hearing this, but believe me when I say Dumbledore does have your best interests at heart. Harry, he's scared for you."

"He's – what?"

"He's scared that he'll be putting you in danger if you two are together. Voldemort has come back to power, and…" he trailed off. "Harry, you are in a considerable amount of danger, but it would dramatically increase if Dumbledore spoke to you often."

Harry thought for a moment, before glaring at them both. "So why should I talk to Dumbledore about my hand, if he won't even answer me because he's scared?" he asked scathingly.

"I'm not talking to Dumbledore," he said with a tone of finality. "And I'd like to see either of you attempt to stop me."

Remus saw Sirius blink in shock. Harry had never spoken to one of them like that. Without another word, Harry ripped himself away from his godfather's arms and stormed out of the room. Sirius looked at Remus, a silent question hanging in the air.

"He'll be okay," Remus assured him, but he could see from the look on Sirius' face, he didn't believe Remus any more than Remus believed in himself.