Disclaimer: All the character's below belong to Miss Rowling, and I don't own the dictionary either

Chapter 2: Nirvana

nirvana (n.)- an ideal condition of complete bliss, delight, and peace

Harry was back by the old oak waiting for Piers while absently scratching his left forearm. The sun was just starting to set, making the landscape beautiful, but Harry wasn't concentrating on the beauty of the night sky. He really needed a fix, and he needed it badly.

Three weeks had past since that fateful first time, and since then he had quickly come to love using…a lot. Fortunately, Piers was able to supply Harry with everything he needed, but at a steep price. Despite his first freebie, Piers was a ruthless dealer and loved to charge Harry as much as he could.

Thank Merlin Harry had plenty of money left in his trunk that he had converted into English pounds. Of course when he had done that ages ago, he was thinking more along the lines of a death eater attack and having to fend for himself in Muggle London, but this was a much more pleasurable scenario.

Just when Harry's scratching was starting to get vicious, he finally spotted Piers coming towards him.

"What can I do for you today Harry?" Piers grinned. Harry noticed he seemed to do that a lot.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I need a hit." Harry had quickly caught on to the odd drug lingo Piers kept spouting out at him.

"Don't you think you've been using a lot lately? I wouldn't want you to get addicted or anything."

"I can stop whenever I want to Piers, but right now I want a hit." Harry had waited long enough. He had run out yesterday morning, and had been craving the heroin all night and day.

Piers held up his hands in defeat. "Well who am I to argue with a customer. You know the deal, six pounds, hand it over."

Harry already had the money in his hand. He looked around quickly before they made the exchange. He was becoming as paranoid as Piers. He slipped the baggie into his pocket, nodded his head, and headed back home. People could be watching, and there was no need to linger. Though he and Piers now had a definitely civil relationship, it wasn't anything near a friendship. It fell more along the lines of a client and a customer, and it bugged Harry that he seemed to be depending more and more on the rat-faced boy. What was worse, he sort of looked up to him.

Though Piers didn't use as much as Harry, he knew all about the drug and gave Harry plenty of tips. What made the best tourniquet, how much H to use to get the best high. All of it he learned from Piers. Harry almost burst out laughing at the thought. Instead what came out was some type of inelegant snort. Piers Polkiss use to be the kid who held his arms back while Dudley used Harry as a punching bag, and now he was dealing Harry heroin and making him feel the best he'd felt in a long time.

By the time Harry got back to the house the sun had set. He decided to skip dinner; he wasn't very hungry anyway. Once he reached his room and shut the door, he noticed that Pig was zooming around from one end to the next. Harry saw there was a letter lying on his bed. He quickly gave Pig some owl treats then sat down to read.

Dear Harry,

Great news, mum's finally convinced Dumbledore to let you stay with us for the rest of the summer! I know Grimmauld Place isn't your favorite house, but we've finished most of the cleaning, and it's hardly recognizable now. Hermione's here too and she says to say hi. Some of the Order members will be picking you up around 7pm tomorrow, so be packed and ready to go. Can't wait to see you mate.

-Ron

Harry cursed under his breath. What was he going to do so far away from his only supplier of heroin? Lately, he seemed to be using at least once every day, if not more. This was not good. Harry looked at the letter again, but what he saw only made him more upset. He would be staying at Grimmauld Place. Harry never wanted to set foot in that house again. Dropping the letter, Harry began trembling as his hands desperately reached for his tourniquet. He went through his ritual methodically, having done it so many times before, and not until the drug was flowing through his veins did he finally stop shaking. He fell asleep, allowing himself for at least a little while to forget about what tomorrow would bring.

Harry called up Piers later the next morning and practically had a panic attack on the phone.

"They're taking me away! What the hell am I going to do, you have to help me!" Harry desperately pleaded.

Piers still seemed half asleep, "Harry calm down. Now what's all this business about being taking away? Are you going on holiday or something?"

"No, my friends are taking me to live with them for the rest of the summer, but what am I supposed to do? I need to keep using."

"Well you could always quit, since you said yourself you're not addicted or anything." Harry could just tell Piers was grinning on the other line.

"But I don't want to do that. Can't you help me out? Please?" Harry hated begging, but he was willing to do anything to not have to give up his heroin.

"Don't get your knickers all in a twist. Of course I'll help you out. I'll come buy with a nice large supply around two, alright?"

Harry let out an exhale of relief, but then he thought of a new worry. "What about after I run out? I can't come to you then. I'll be too far away."

"Where are you staying? Maybe I know someone who lives around there who can help you out."

"London," said Harry even though it was useless. The Order would never let him out once he was inside Grimmauld Place.

"Oh well then Harry you're in luck. London is full of dealers I know personally. I'll give you the number of a few when we meet today."

Even though he knew it was pointless, Harry let Piers think he was helping. "Alright, oh and Piers, bring a big supply."

"Will do. Meet me by the oak at two." And then Piers hung up. Harry let out a sigh of defeat and slowly returned upstairs to pack his trunk.

The day could not have gone by any slower. Harry was sitting on his bed staring at his clock which read 6:59. After meeting with Piers for the last time, Harry hid his rather large stock of heroin at the bottom of his trunk. But then he got restless and decided on one more quick hit before the Order arrived. That calmed him down a bit, but now he was starting to wish he had done one more. His nerves were on end, and when his clock turned 7, quickly followed by a loud knock on his door, Harry jumped and fell off his bed. He got up, scratched his arm absentmindedly and opened the door. He was greeted by the familiar faces of Tonks, Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley, and Alastor Moody.

"Wotcher, Harry," said Tonks whose hair today was lime green and cut in an attractive bob. "It's good to see you again."

"You too." And despite all his worries, Harry spoke the truth. It was nice seeing friendly wizarding faces again.

Remus Lupin stepped into the room. He looked as ragged as ever, and Harry realized Sirius' death must be eating at him too. "Hello Harry. You look well."

Harry laughed at that. He knew he looked anything but well. Strung out and high was more like it, but none of them knew that. "Hi Lupin." Harry nodded at the other two in turn, "Mr. Weasley, Moody. This is all of you?"

"Aye, but there should be ten more if you ask me," Moody grumbled.

"And that is exactly why no one did ask you Mad-eye." Tonks said winking, and then to Harry, "Alright, lets get out of here as soon as possible. Where's your trunk?"

Harry pointed to the corner where it was currently situated. Lying on top of it was Hedwig's empty cage; she had left hunting a few days ago and was presumably still out. Remus walked over to it, and flicked a featherlight charm in its direction. Picking it up and tucking Hedwig's cage under his arm, he headed for the door.

"What about the Dursley's? Did you see them on you way in?" Harry thought maybe he ought to say goodbye.

Arthur spoke up for the first time. "Harry we thought it best to avoid your relatives, seeing as how things went last time.." He trailed off obviously thinking of his twin sons and their ton-tongue toffees.

"Yes they're down in the living room, but we put up a silencing charm so they will never know we've been here. Dumbledore will inform them as to you whereabouts, and we can leave in peace." Lupin supplied as he walked towards the stairs.

Everyone followed, with Moody bringing up the rear, sniffing the portraits that lined the stair wall suspiciously. "Odd things, these are." He said, eyeballing a picture of Dudley at the beach with a look of contempt. "It's unnatural that they don't move."

"Yes aren't they fascinating?" Arthur eagerly joined Moody in looking at the photo. "See that thing around the boy's middle? It's called an innards tube, and apparently allows one to float in water. Just extraordinary."

Moody harrumphed at Mr. Weasley's look of awe and continued down the stairs.

As Harry passed by the living room, he saw the Dursleys watching the tv set with their backs to him. After a moment of indecision, he continued past them and out the door. Saying goodbye would only result in making his uncle angry, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with that right now.

Once outside, Harry stopped and looked at his 'rescuers.'

"So, how are we getting out of here? Broomsticks again?" Harry was sure that would be the case and was waiting for the familiar feeling of a disallusionment charm, but it never came.

"Actually Harry, Dumbledore feels that the quickest way is apparition," Remus answered, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Tonks was grinning, Moody was scowling, and Harry was feeling apprehensive.

"But I'm not allowed to apparate, I don't even know how it's done."

Mr. Weasley spoke up, "Now there Harry, there's nothing to worry about. We'll be using side-along apparition. Just grab Remus by the arm," he motioned for Harry to do so. "And hold on tight."

Harry did as he was told then looked at Lupin. Before he knew what was happening, he heard a distinct pop and felt his world constrict. A few seconds later he was lying sprawled across the floor of the kitchen of Grimmauld Place; Lupin was lying next to him, propped up on his elbows.

"Sorry about that Harry. I was always rubbish at side-along. Could never get the landing right," Lupin smiled sheepishly.

"S'okay," Harry answered, straightening his glasses.

The rest of the party materialized then, and Tonks let out a cackle of laughter. With her green hair, Harry could see where stories of wicked witches had come from. She finally calmed down and held out her hand to help Harry up. Mr. Weasley did the same for Remus.

They heard a voice coming from just outside the door. "Arthur is that you dear?"

Mr. Weasley answered, "Yes Molly, we're all in the kitchen. Harry's with us."

Molly Weasley entered the kitchen with a wooden spoon in one hand and a knitting needle in the other. Harry saw that she was still as motherly and plump as ever, but she did look a bit stressed. Having so many sons involved in the war would do that to a person.

But when she spotted Harry, she put aside her things and held out her arms to envelop Harry in a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh Harry dear, it's so good to see you. Oh you are looking as thin as ever, and a bit peaky. Are you getting enough sleep?"

At one time, Harry wouldn't have minded the motherly fretting, but at the moment he just wanted to be left alone. "Yes Mrs. Weasley," he answered in monotone.

Mrs. Weasley let go of him, and smiled down at her 'son.' "Well that's good to hear. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione are upstairs in your old bedroom. You know the way."

Harry mumbled thanks then walked out of the kitchen, picking up his trunk and birdcage along the way. As he walked towards the landing he noticed that Ron was right; the place was a lot more habitable. There was more lighting and a lot less dust. And many of the unseemly dark antiques had vanished. But that didn't matter. For him, this house would always hold memories of his deceased godfather, and it immediately made him ache for a hit.

He entered the bedroom to see Ron and Hermione sitting on Ron's bed, while Ginny was lounging on his own. Harry couldn't help notice that she looked good. Her auburn hair fanned out from her head in gentle waves, and she had filled out quite a bit. Her hazel eyes immediately locked onto his as he stepped into the room, and she gave him a genuine smile.
Ginny sat up, "Harry it's good to see you. Hope you don't mind me mussing up your bed. The floor just wasn't comfortable, and the two lovebirds over there," she jerked her thumb in the direction of Ron and Hermione, who were quickly turning red, "refused to budge. So how's your summer been?"

Harry returned her smile. Ginny was never afraid to say anything. He placed his trunk and cage down by his bed, and joined her in sitting. "It's been…fine. Not much has happened, you know."

Ron recovered from his blushing fit and spoke to Harry, "It's so good to see you mate. We've been worried about you since, well…since." Ron averted his eyes and stared at the floor. Hermione elbowed him in the stomach, and Ron gave her a stare that clearly said 'oops, sorry.'

Harry saw the exchange between the two, and it quickly made him angry. So this was how it was going to be? Just like last year all over again, with them treading softly around sensitive Harry, and not speaking their minds because he was too delicate. Great, just great. He no longer wanted to see them, and desperately wished for some privacy.

Ginny quickly rescued the conversation with tales of battling banisters and dark loveseats, and all other sorts of cleaning horror stories. Harry should have found it entertaining, but as the time wore on, he was growing increasingly alarmed. It was clear he would be receiving no alone time in this house, but he could feel it was time for another hit. His muscles were beginning to ache and he was growing more restless with each passing minute. Finally he could take it no longer.

Interrupting Ginny in the middle of a lively tale between a coffee stain and Fred, who was determined to rid the couch of it, Harry spoke up, "I think I need to change. Sorry Ginny. It's just I've been in these clothes for too long, and I could do with a fresh shirt."

When Ginny just shrugged, but no one made to move, he elaborated, "I could use some privacy. Give me a few minutes will you?"

The three looked at each other, and for a second Harry was afraid they would refuse him, but then they all stood up and headed for the door. Hermione turned to Harry before she closed it. "You ok Harry? You seem a bit…on edge. If you need someone to talk to about anything, you know you can always come to me."

"Of course Hermione, I know. But really I'm fine. I just want a fresh change of clothes." He smiled at her in what he thought would be a convincing grin. "I'll let you know when I'm done."

She nodded then closed the door. Finally alone, Harry let out a deep sigh. Then he rushed to his trunk and opened it as fast as possible. Buried at the bottom were his supplies, and he took out everything he needed as quickly as he could. By then, his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even light the match. Deciding that no one would notice a little underage magic in a house full of wizards, he spelled the spoon hot. It took only a few seconds for the heroin to liquefy, and then he put it into one of his syringes. Harry rolled up his left sleeve, and tightened his belt around his bicep, but he couldn't find a vein. He had been using the one at the crook of his arm so frequently that it must have collapsed. Letting out a groan of frustration, Harry switched the tourniquet to his other arm, where the veins were unused and healthy. He emptied the contents of the needle into his arm, and closed his eyes waiting for the feel of relief. Soon enough, all that had been gnawing at him melted away. It didn't matter that he was in Sirius' house and would most likely spend the rest of the summer trapped there. It didn't matter that his friends were still walking in circles around him, afraid to say something that would get him upset. And it didn't matter that Voldemort was still out there, probably killing someone at this very moment. All that mattered was the heroin, and it felt so good. After the first surge of euphoria Harry came back down and felt he could face his friends again. He rolled down his sleeves and went to open the door. They were all waiting at the end of the hall and he smiled at them, motioning for them to come back inside. As they returned Ron gave him a strange look.

"Harry, I thought you said you wanted to change your clothes. You're still wearing the same outfit."

Harry looked down at his body and silently cursed. "Er…yeah, I was going to…but it turns out, er, none of my other clothes were clean. Must have forgotten to do the laundry." He smiled sheepishly hoping they would accept the lie.

After a moment they seemed to buy it, and Harry relaxed again. As the conversation continued, Harry tuned them out and smiled dazedly to himself. He should have been alarmed that he had just lied to his best friend, but really it was just one little white lie. It was no big deal, and it was worth feeling this good. Heroin really was an amazing drug.