Chapter 1: Dark Summer

Harry rolled out of bed, rubbing his scar wearily. He supposed he should be grateful; it was the first vision he had had since May. He took his hand away from his head, examining it. At least his scar hadn't split open.

"One time. One time, and you won't let me forget it will you? It isn't like I do it on purpose!"

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation as the petulant voice echoed around his head. His mental guest, master of sarcasm and pretty good with dark magic. And now named Titus, at his own request. That had been awkward…

Two weeks ago:

He had been sitting in the lounge, pretending to be engrossed in Gormenghast in a desperate attempt to avoid his aunt's nagging worry. Ever since he had come back for the summer, she had been driving him crazy, always wanting to talk about… him. His godfather. It still hurt even to think his name.

He had been sitting there, staring at the same page for nearly ten minutes, when the voice started speaking. It had startled him, and he had genuinely jumped out of his seat, much to the surprise of the Dursleys.

"Titus… Nice. I like the sound of that – it's unusual, don't you think?"

"Harry? Are you all right?" Aunt Petunia was half out of her chair, hovering and looking worried. Harry flashed a hasty smile at her.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just – dozed off… Odd dream. I'm fine. Excuse me a minute…"

Once he was safely battened away in his bedroom, he sprawled on his bed, sighing to himself in frustration.

"What the hell are you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack! And how the hell are we supposed to talk when we're not alone?"

"Well, for a start, I live inside your head – you don't need to speak out loud, I can hear you just fine even if you only think your reply. And stop whinging; you're the one who wants me to teach you magic, so you're going to have to communicate with me. So put up and shut up, as I believe the expression goes."

Harry scowled, but said his reply mentally, trying it out.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes, of course. So, what do you think of the name?"

"What name?"

"Titus you fool. The one I said earlier. What do you think?"

Harry shrugged.

"It's ok I guess. Why Titus though?"

"Like I said – distinctive, unusual. A little regal as well, don't you think?"

"And you call me arrogant…" Harry muttered out loud. He jumped as someone knocked on his door.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?"

He climbed to his feet, and opened the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine Aunt – "

"Oh Harry, your head! Come here, come here…"

Bewildered by this outburst, Harry allowed his aunt to drag him along the landing to the bathroom. As she busied herself in the medicine cabinet, he sneaked a look in the mirror. There was a thin trickle of blood coming from his scar.

"Oh… I must have banged my head when I jumped up. Hadn't realised. It's nothing, don't worry about it."

Typically, his aunt paid no attention to this, fussing over him as if he were her own flesh and blood. He pulled away, slightly embarrassed, muttering to himself.

"I've had far worse than this you know…"

There was an awkward silence, suddenly broken by a sniffle. Harry was horrified to realise that his aunt was crying.

"Oh – oh don't cry, I wasn't…" He tailed off, unsure of what to say.

He winced slightly as she hugged him tightly. He was still a little sore from his fight with Sirius and Rosier at the end of term – even if it hadn't exactly been him fighting. He said nothing though, just patted his aunt on the back. She'd only worry more if he told her, and it was hardly crippling pain.

"I know Harry, I know. I'm sorry… making a fool of myself…"

"No you aren't." Harry told her firmly. She gave a watery chuckle.

"I just worry about you – when I think about how many times he could have killed you…"

Harry tensed, wary of any conversation about him.

"Yeah, well. He didn't, did he? And you know that the house has been re-warded; he'll have difficulty getting onto the street, let alone through the door. I'm not going anywhere Aunt Petunia."

She smiled, and hugged him again.

"You'd better not. I don't know what I'd do if you did."

Harry blushed.

Now:

Harry rubbed his scar, scowling to himself. After that little incident, he and Titus had kept their conversations to the evening, after everyone else was in bed. It wasn't as if Titus could teach him much while his family were around, and they weren't exactly going to talk about the latest Quidditch results. Harry wouldn't describe his strange guest as a friend by any means. After a while though, the side effects had died down; his scar didn't even twinge, let alone start to bleed. Of course, there was still the problem of mental distraction, which had caused a few odd looks from his family.

Sitting back down on the bed, he tried to remember everything he could about the vision he had seen. Some of it was all too clear; that corpse had been terrifying. And as for what Voldemort had done to Stark… Harry shuddered in revulsion, and felt his stomach churn. He hurried to the bathroom, trying to remain silent, and emptied his stomach into the toilet. Merlin…

"Yeah, yeah, it was horrible and bloody and all that jazz. I thought you wanted to learn how to do that kind of thing? Anyway, don't you think there are a few more important things in that vision to worry about? Like, say, Voldemort getting a body back? Well, I say a body…"

"Thanks, I'd spotted that for myself. Don't suppose you recognised the place did you?"

"You do remember the bit about me not being aware of anything before your godfather tried to kill you, don't you? I'd have thought you would, I did save your life after all. No, of course I didn't recognise the place. Why would I have done anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "Why wouldn't you? I don't know where you came from."

"You're too paranoid for your own good."

Harry rolled his eyes. This was a common argument. Despite the spells Titus had promised to teach him – which Harry had to confess, weren't all Dark, or even dark – Harry occasionally had pangs of worry, based around the mystery of Titus' appearance in his head. True, Titus had saved his life on certainly one occasion, and claimed to have done so on two others; in Harry's first year, when Sirius had attacked him in the Forest, and in his second year, when the shade of Tom Riddle had broken into his head. Harry had been unconscious for both events, so couldn't verify either claim. But despite himself, Harry basically trusted him. His morality might be ambiguous, but he was certain Titus would never hurt him or his friends.

Well, fairly.

He dragged his mind back to the content of the vision. "What about the people – that Spitewinter, ever heard of him?"

"Again… No memories prior to saving your life – which you've never thanked me for incidentally, do feel free to do so anytime you wish."

"Hm. Sounds familiar from somewhere. Maybe Remus mentioned him?" Harry mused to himself.

"Or maybe, given the company he's keeping, Sirius mentioned him? They clearly knew each other."

Harry grimaced, but acknowledged the point.

"Look, not that I don't appreciate being taken into your confidence, very charming etcetera etcetera, but wouldn't you be better off talking to someone with more knowledge to draw on than whatever you've managed to cram into your skull? Remus, perhaps? Hell, write to Dumbledore. You'll end up talking to him about it anyway, might as well cut out the middleman."

"I don't want them worrying about me…"

"Ah, well, so long as you live your life with that sensible attitude you won't go far wrong. Stop being a twat and write the letter. You won't get to sleep while you're worrying about it, you know that."

"Yes mother."

Sure enough, Harry had got back to sleep far quicker than he might have expected after sending Hedwig off with the letter to Remus. He had tried to keep it light and unconcerned, but wasn't sure how successful he had been; the vision had been undoubtedly scary.

The next morning, Harry returned to his room after breakfast, pretending to be doing his holiday homework. In reality, he was pouring over a list of things that Titus had dictated for him, ranging from little duelling tips to spells. He couldn't wait to try them out once he got back to Hogwarts – there were times he really hated not being able to do magic except in certain places. He could hardly ask Peter to take him back to the Dearborn house to practice spells that the voice in his head had told him. That would get him some unquestionably funny looks.

Try as he might though, he couldn't concentrate. His mind kept slipping back to the vision he had seen. He hadn't quite realised how far you could take the dark arts, despite his unusually heavy exposure to them. It was unsettling, and he was beginning to wonder if he had done the right thing in asking Titus to teach him about them. He was no Voldemort in waiting, he knew that, but that didn't mean he would never become dangerous. Maybe he should calm it down a little…

His aunt called from below, interrupting his musings.

"Harry! Come down, Remus is here!"

Harry blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected his guardian to show up so soon. He hastily shoved the paper he had been reading back under the floor, where no-one was likely to find it, and hurried downstairs. Remus was waiting in the hall for him, looking even more serious than normal.

"Harry, how are you? Fancy a little trip out?" Remus asked, not bothering to wait for a reply.

Harry frowned, confused, and then picked up the hidden meaning: not in front of the Dursleys.

"Eh, yes, why not? Just let me get my coat…"

He ran back upstairs, throwing his coat over his shoulders – and for good measure, grabbing his wand. The action gave him a pang of regret, tinged with anger. He usually never bothered, since he couldn't use it outside Hogwarts and Privet Drive was safe from attack. That sense of security had been stolen from him by Sirius, even after the boosted wards. At the bottom of the stairs, Remus was explaining to Aunt Petunia that they probably wouldn't be back for awhile, and apologising for the short notice.

"Don't worry about it Remus, it'll do him good to get out of the house – oh, Harry, do have a good time won't you? And behave!"

"I always do Aunt Petunia." Harry responded with a wry smile, letting her know that he had heard her concern. She flushed, faintly, and kissed him goodbye.

Unusually, Remus didn't even bother to leave the house before Disapparating, clinging tightly to Harry's shoulder. This was generally considered the height of bad manners in the wizarding world, and it was a mark of how unnerved Remus was feeling that he broke this unspoken rule.

They reappeared near Remus's flat, a rather dilapidated building near Oxford. That was something of an understatement actually; Harry had always thought of it as a Muggle version of the Burrow in terms of quality, but it was all Remus could afford. He had not inherited much from his family, and his condition left him largely unemployable, in the eyes of most at least. Remus led Harry up the stairs slowly, so slowly that Harry could have been fooled into thinking he was recovering from a painful transformation. However, it was three weeks to the full moon.

"Remus, are you ok?"

He saw his guardian tense, just for a moment, as if he had wanted to avoid this issue.

"Still suffering from what Sirius did. I will be for a while to be honest, he poisoned my system shockingly well."

Remus didn't meet Harry's eyes as he spoke, as if he was somehow ashamed of his injuries. Harry scowled, and mentally notched up another grievance against Sirius. He would make him pay. Remus said nothing more on the subject, concentrating on getting the front door open. Once they were safely inside, he turned back to Harry, looking grave.

"We need to talk about your vision Harry."

"What's to talk about? I told you everything that happened."

"You're sure? You didn't leave anything out?"

"Trust me, it was rather… vivid."

Remus winced, a pitying light shining in his eyes. Harry looked away, only to be startled when Remus took his hand, squeezing it.

"Are you going to be ok? If you want to talk – "

"Remus, I'd just like to forget I ever saw it. The whole thing was messed up, and what he did to those men was foul. I just… I just don't want to think about it, ok?" Harry was embarrassed to realise that he was nearly pleading by the time he stopped speaking. Remus sighed, but nodded.

"If you change your mind, you know where I am."

"Of course I do," Harry replied. "Although there was something I wanted to ask you; who's this Spitewinter bloke? The name sounds familiar from somewhere."

Remus frowned in distaste. "He's a pureblood noble. He commands the Knights of the Dark Lord. Well, not that anyone can prove it. Too rich, and too much political influence."

"So basically he's a bigoted psycho?"

Remus's eyes flashed with amusement. "A masterful summary, yes."

There was a brief silence while they both contemplated the ramifications of the alliance. The Knights were a largely ineffectual group of disillusioned purebloods who dreamt of being granted the title of Death Eater. By and large, they weren't that dangerous, rating somewhere on the level of 'annoyance'. However, with Voldemort's backing, they could become truly dangerous, and it would give him a massive support base. Harry shuddered, involuntarily. Remus looked like he agreed.

"Well, I've seen him there now; couldn't he be arrested?" Harry asked, a little naively.

"Harry, you have a powerful reputation, but 'I saw it in a dream' won't stand up in court, not even from you. Sorry." Remus responded with a mild chuckle. Harry scowled.

"So what's going to happen? We know he's involved, and if he's got all this influence then he can't just drop off the face of the earth – is he going to be tailed or something?"

"I would imagine so, yes. It might even fall to me to track him."

"Well, only until the start of term, right?"

Remus blinked, confused, and then nodded in understanding. "Ah, yes… I won't be coming back to Hogwarts this year Harry."

"What? How come? You were brilliant!"

"Thank you Harry," Remus smiled faintly, but carried on. "But Sirius injured me too badly. You saw me coming in here; I'm still feeling the effects. I'll be next to useless teaching Defence, especially to the older students. Dumbledore's already got someone lined up, although he didn't say who."

Harry absorbed this in silence. He couldn't help but notice that Remus looked slightly bitter about the issue, but couldn't tell if he was annoyed with Dumbledore, his replacement, or even just Sirius.

"They won't be as good as you. I'll miss you."

Remus smiled brightly. "That's nice to hear Harry, but it isn't as if I'm abandoning Hogwarts completely. Peter and I will still be around to keep you and your friends up to speed on duelling, and I wouldn't miss what's happening this year for the world…"

"What do you mean? What's happening?" Harry demanded, his curiosity pricked.

Remus grinned again. "Oh, you'll find out…"