A/N Hi ya. This is a story I've wanted to do since I saw the fifth Harry Potter movie with a friend of mine. We were both struck by the pure , well, with the risk of sounding like a fangirl, nummyness of Sirius. We also noticed the hugs, touches, and intimate looks between Harry and his godfather. What if, we thought. What if there was more to it than what meets the eye? The following is my little take. Any hoo, this story is mildly AU, to the extent that Sirius is back from the veil, and there is slashynes abound. Let me put it this way, if I owned Harry potter, Ginny would fall into the veil, and book five would end with a happy little slash scene.
Look forward to light Weasley bashing, and mildly emo!Harry.
One last thing, canon has not only been tossed out the window, but has also been run over by a very large truck. And a tank. Yeah, that about covers it.
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Harry had the dream again. The same one he had been having more and more frequently since Sirius had fallen into the veil. Sure at first he had the nightmares, Bellatrix's laughter haunted his nights for months, but he never even had these anymore. All he had were the ones where Sirius is alive, and kissing, nipping, and generally making Harry as pleasured possible. As Harry screamed Sirius' name, Ron usually popped his head into Harry's curtains, and attempting to calm him after he endured what Ron assumed was a nightmare.
"You okay mate? I heard you scream Sirius' name. Same veil dream again? It'll be okay." Ron tried to smile in a way that he assumed looked sympathetic, but gave him the appearance of being constipated.
"I'm fine, fine, just peachy. Go back to bed Ron." Something in the way that Harry said that, it made him a little suspicious, but he wasn't going to delve into Harry's psyche. Who was he, Hermione? Something else was weird too… Why when he checked on Harry, were his blankets pulled up to his chin? It looked like he was hiding something. Ron decided not to think to hard on that, and just did as Harry suggested, and went back to sleep.
Harry however did not. He guessed that he had about 3 hours before the rest of his dorm began waking, so he rose from his bed, and began completing morning chores, such as changing his bed linen, and getting a cold shower. All the while, Harry thought on what the dreams meant. So, Sirius was dead, did the fact that he was turned on by the dreams mean he was a necropheliac? That would be creepy. Really, really creepy. One particular thought, though came and stayed at the forefront of his mind. Does this mean I'm gay? He never thought about anyone the way he was thinking about Sirius, male or female. Hell, if Cho excited him about as much cold oatmeal, why then did Harry get off on dreams about Sirius? Was nothing in his life ever even a little normal?
Harry had resigned himself to being the hero, the chosen one, so on and so forth, whoop de do. Couldn't he at least have one thing go by the book? He could carry um, Ginny, sure, yeah Ginny, off into the sunset after killing Voldemort. That's what she wanted since she was ten years old, wasn't it? It didn't much matter to Harry what he wanted. He guessed that it would feel odd not to play the hero anymore. He wondered if Ginny would make him happy. It didn't matter. She would be happy, and so would the whole fucking Weasley clan.
Harry attempted to picture Ginny and him together, and he shuddered. He could see Ginny becoming shrill, especially after she realized that Harry's thoughts lay elsewhere. And she would realize. She was far too bright not to. He decided that these feelings toward Ginny were far worse than cold oatmeal. Harry also decided that he should go down to the Great Hall to eat. It was a bad sign if he started to compare his romantic encounters in the past to breakfast food.
After spending far too much time pondering his love life, or lack there of, Harry noticed that his room mates had already left him. Muttering disparaging remarks about Ron, Neville and the rest, Harry slowly trudged down staircase after staircase to the Great Hall, and his house mates.
"'Lo 'Arry. We were wonderin' when you'd be 'own." Harry just shot Neville a cold look. Neville knew that Harry thought it was gross when people talked with their mouths full. It gave him Dudley flashbacks. Neville swallowed quickly, and returned to what ever conversation he and Dean had been having.
"So, coming to the Burrow this year for break, right mate? You never really said for sure, and seeing as it's the last day and all…" Ron, as usual, trailed off in the middle of what ever he had been saying. Harry just rolled his eyes ever so slightly, and answered his friend.
"Lupine sent me an owl a few days ago saying that he wanted me to come to Grimmauld place over break. The whole order'll be there. Something important happened I guess."
"You guess? You guess? What the bloody hell aren't you telling us? You know what happened, and you thought it would be just hi-larious to keep us in the dark, didn't you?" Ron's face by then had flushed, and his voice had risen to a level that could be heard by most of the table.
"No Ron. I have no clue what is going on. Just a little cryptic message and a chocolate frog. I will never understand his thing with chocolate. "
"Oh, uh, sorry mate. I guess I over reacted a little." Ron shrugged and tucked into his breakfast, which resembled less of a meal, and more of the international tour of sausages.
"Ron, when are you going to learn healthy eating habits? Are you just going to devote your life to meat, and die with a liver that looks like pate?" Harry used Hermione's little tirade to escape the Great Hall unnoticed. He just wanted to find a little corner to sit in while he finished the last few lines on an essay for Transfigurations. Leave it to McGonagall to give homework on the last day before break. Snape would have most likely given them homework as well, but Potions wasn't scheduled for Gryffindors, thank Merlin.
Eventually, Ron, Hermione, and predictably Neville, who had tacked himself on to the trio in a not altogether unwelcome manner, found Harry and added him to the little pack going to Transfiguration.
After seats had been found, essays had been turned in; the lecture of the day began. Unfortunately, the class was to be all theory and no practice. Performing spells would have kept Harry's mind off of the morning's dreams. As it was, he looked down at his book, and allowed his mind to wander. Or he did, until a small note that was charmed to prod him in the arm jilted Harry out of his thoughts.
Are you okay, Harry? You seem a bit distracted. Penny for your thoughts.
Hermione, unlike Ron, was far more perceptive. Whereas Ron would have written his blank look to boredom, Hermione was able to see that Harry was lost in thought about something important.
You and I both know that muggles never say that any more. I'm fine, by the way, just thinking about the letter from Lupin. He must have had something important to tell me.
He sent the not entirely untruthful note back to Hermione. The whole Lupin thing was worrying him, but Harry also figured that dreaming of doing unspeakable horizontal things with his dead godfather did not bode well for concentration.
Do you want to talk about it?
No Hermione. I just want to get to Grimmauld place already. Okay?
No need to get defensive. You sound like Ron.
We don't want that, do we? You know he said something about you in his sleep the other night?
I am going to have a talk with him, I promise. This crush is getting out of hand. I think he still believes that I feel the same way. I try so hard to discourage him.
Does this explain the little explosion over breakfast meats?
If you get a crush on me to, I WILL kill you. Voldemort will have to just get in line.
No worries. You're like my sister. I think about you the same way I thin about Ginny.
What is it with Weasleys and unrequited love? Maybe Malfoy is right about the red hair messing with their brains
Oh so kind Hermione. Ginny will move on soon. I hope. Probably. Maybe.
Face it. You are it for her. If she can't have you, than the girl will either join a nunnery, (and make Ron proud) or fuck anything with a pulse.
I suddenly feel very sorry for that Pygmy puff of hers
Hermione read the last note, and left the class laughing to the point of tears, as the Gryffindors made their way to Charms.
"Are you okay Hermione? Do you want to go to the Hospital wing?"
"Just….. Just fine, Ron," Hermione was able to choke out through laughing fits. "You really needn't worry" she said once she had calmed herself.
They made their way to Charms where, in his usual Christmas spirit, Flitwick was letting every class decorate Christmas trees, using only magic. While this was not difficult for the sixth years, some rouge candy canes and ornaments crashed into heads, and at one point, the stack of books on which Professor Flitwick was perched. It took a quick spell from Dean Thomas to keep the man from falling to the ground. It was a nice, easy way to spend a double period. Everyone was laughing and comparing holiday plans. It seemed all the Gryffindors were going home. Neville to his Grandmother's, Dean and Seamus were going to Dean's family house. Something about a lack of parental supervision was mentioned.
The rest of the day passed rather quickly, with busy work from professors, and spots of conversation about holidays. Soon enough, dinner had come and gone, and the some of the sixth years were gathered in the almost empty common room.
"I think we should play a little game. Just to see how much we've learned about each other in the six long years. What do you say?"
"Well, Dean, I think that's a great idea" Seamus gave his boyfriend a little squeeze. "What about you guys?" Hermione, Ron, Harry and Neville all nodded their heads. "Hm, just to make it more interesting, why don't we have a little, uh punishment if you will if you get the question wrong. Hang on a mo." He ran up to the dorms, and quickly returned with what looked like a bottle of firewhiskey. "Every time you answer incorrectly, you take a drink. This is not a game for first years, boys and girls." He slammed the bottle down on the table and turned to Dean for the first question.
"Ronny-kin's crush. Name her."
"Oh, that's too easy. The lovely and talented Miss Granger." Hermione bowed her head to Seamus. "Ron's turn. Hermione's crush."
"Um, me? Yes, of course."
"Wrong Ron. Take a drink." Ron looked a little crestfallen at Hermione's rejection, and took a swig of the firewhiskey.
"Hermione, time to fess up. Who has captured your heart? Dean did his best to seem attentive.
"Does no one remember that I am still with Viktor? Harry, tell them." Harry merely nodded. His friends could be so dense at times.
"Any way, Hermione, we wish you may, we wish you might, tell us Neville's crush tonight."
"Poetry now? Did you boys get a few sheets to the wind before we even started this game?" Dean and Seamus tried, and failed to look innocent. "Thought so. No bloody clue. Luna?"
"Nope. Blaise Zabini. Been together since the second week of school." A loud thump could be heard from the sounds of five jaws hitting the floor.
"Well, kudos to Neville for discretion, and hotness on Zabini's part. Very nice. I approve. Granger, since you not only got the question wrong and mistook this obvious flamer for a boring little straight boy, take a sip."
"Up yours Thomas."
"Not very nice Hermione. Any way, Neville, to continue the pattern, tell us Harry's crush."
"Ginny, I guess."
"Pass him the bottle Hermione." Only Ron looked surprised at that one. The others had been told, or figured out from Harry's slight grimaces when Ginny virtually molested him at meals, that Ginny was not who Harry wanted in the slightest.
"If not her, than whom, Oh savior of the wizarding world?" Harry panicked.
"Hey, uh, I got to go. See you in the morning. Enjoy your game." He all but ran away from his friends. While he was leaving he heard Ron telling off Dean.
"Everything was going fine, and then you had to bring up fucking you-know-who! You made Harry all upset!"
"Me thinks our little four-eyed friend has a secret that he wishes to keep as such."
Harry changed into his pajamas, guessing that the best idea for him at the moment was to go to bed. That way he could be prepared for what ever lay ahead when he returned to the mighty house of Black, or as it stood now, Potter.
In a few hours, Harry had awoken to a door opening. He peaked out of his curtains and watched as Neville came through the door, supporting Ron, who was quietly singing some song about not wearing underwear. He helped Ron to his bed, and made two more trips to retrieve Dean and Seamus, whom he threw on to Seamus' bed. Finally, Neville made his way in to his own bed, and muttered something about Hermione being on her own. Harry was vaguely amused for the few minutes longer that he was awake before drifting back to sleep.
Harry was the first one awake. He had a wonderful dreamless sleep. At least he told himself it was wonderful. Since he was the first one, Harry took it upon himself to wake his most likely hung over room mates. It was not an opportunity he could pass up. He quietly said a quick spell that opened the drapes, flooding the room with light. He then said one more throw open the curtains around the beds. One final spell, and a sound like an over eager alarm clock with a mega phone went off in the room. Harry was met with death glares from all of those who had been sleeping off the night previous.
"We need to get ready to meet the train," Harry said sunnily, and only received more glares. "I have hangover potion in my trunk. Get dressed, and I'll dole it out." His roommates grumbled, but they pulled themselves out of bed, although it took cajoling from Dean to remove Seamus from his bed, but a threat involving months without sex did the trick. Harry was able to corral the boys, and get them all down stairs, where they were supposed to leave their luggage.
"Hey Ron, remember your underwear?" Harry asked, remember the drunken singing.
"Harry, you are my best mate, but you get weirder by the day." Neville laughed a bit, he was just sober enough at the time to remember.
Harry glanced around for Hermione, only to find her sprawled out next to the table they had been sitting around last night. He shook her shoulder, and gave her the last of the hang over potion. Hermione promptly freaked out.
"I still have to get my things and I need to change, and shower, and gather a few books for the train, and, and…" She began to hyperventilate.
"Calm, it is okay. Your room mates tossed your things in you trunk. You don't have time for a shower, but you can clean up a bit." Harry pointed his wand at her and quickly did a spell that took the wrinkles out of her robe, and tidied her hair, as much as could be expected. She calmed down, and walked with the rest of those who were leaving down to the Great Hall, to be taken down to the train.
Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed into a carriage, and were taken down to the train. Both the ride to the train, and the ride to King's Cross Station were mainly silent. Hermione and Ron were both still nursing headaches. The potion had helped, but it did not completely iradicate the symptoms. Harry tried his best to keep his mind busy. At one point he was reduced to reading his potions book. Soon enough, however, the train stopped, and three distracted sixth years met Mad Eye Moody, Tonks, and Arthur Weasley at platform 9 and 3/4. They packed their things in one of the ministry cars, and left the station.
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"Do you think they'll be here soon? I haven't seen Harry in months. It's not fair really. But he's coming for Christmas!"
"For the last time, they should be here soon! Now calm down and take that stupid bow off of your neck."
"But I didn't get Harry anything for Christmas, so I'm his gift, you know, me being back and all. I have to look the part. Besides, I have to give him something to unwrap."
"I am going to pretend I did not just hear the innuendo in that."
"You are such a killjoy." At that moment, there was a tentative knock on the front door of number twelve Grimmauld place.
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OMG! Who ever could it be? I heart sarcasm. Can you tell?
Yes, everyone needs a bit of Christmas in September. Just don't overdo it on the virtual 'nog.
Please R&R! Every time you ignore the little blue button, someone posts a badly written story where Ginny has her way with Harry! (Shudders at thought)