Disclaimer: Own nothing. Dawn and all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer still belong to Joss Whedon, and all the Harry Potterness still belongs to JK Rowling. I Don't Know You Anymore is by Savage Garden.

Huge thanks to everybody who has reviewed and waited patiently for me to update. Your support has been the driving force behind this update!

CHAPTER TWO

I Don't Know You Anymore

I'll be courageous if you can pretend that you've forgiven me…

Dawn's first week at Order Headquarters passed more quietly than she could stand. Harry was flat-out refusing to speak to her, she knew that she needed to find a way to get the past all out in the open with him, but first she'd need to figure out a way to get him to stay in the same room as her for more than five minutes. Things with Sirius were almost as bad. He spoke to her only when absolutely necessary, and as if he was proving a point, still stubbornly refused to look at her.

If it wasn't for Remus keeping her sane, she would've given up after two days and scurried back to Rio with her tail between her legs. Plenty of demons to pummel in Rio. Not that the Weasley clan weren't doing their best to help her settle in – Molly and Arthur were always ready for a cup of tea and a chat, and the twins considered it their sworn duty in life to make sure there was constantly laughter somewhere in the gloomy old house.

Ron wasn't exactly friendly (loyalty to Harry, Dawn figured) but he was too aware of his mother's presence to be outright rude. Ginny and Hermione rallied around her at every chance they got, both glad to have a little more girl power at their disposal in a house full of boys. Plus Hermione often got annoyed with Sirius for kicking his foul little house-elf, Kreacher, up the butt whenever they crossed paths. And Ginny was a right little firebrand – she had a wicked streak a mile wide and could talk for twelve hours straight. It was hard for a Marauder not to get along with her. James would've been lobbying to have her as his daughter-in-law, if he was here. But it was obvious that Harry hadn't yet woken up to what was right under his nose. He must've inherited that from Lily. She'd been introduced to a few of the new Order members who'd popped in and out throughout the week, and Remus had filled her in on any of the minor details Dumbledore had missed when they had spoken. She hadn't seen the Hogwarts Headmaster since that evening in his office, and as she slotted into the kitchen late one evening for her first Order meeting of the new war, she hoped to have a quiet word with him at some point. She had a bone to pick with him about spells using Gora eggs.

It was eleven-thirty, the kids had all been ordered upstairs and Arthur had warned he'd put charms all over the house to let him know if they tried anything like sneaking back down to listen, and witches and wizards were piling in.

Dawn didn't recognise anybody at first, there were only twenty or so members of the new Order, and a high percentage of the old Order members were dead, or worse. Dawn shuddered with memories. She'd been at the crime scene when Alice and Frank Longbottom had been discovered tortured into insanity. It had been a surprisingly sterile crime scene, except for the door blown in, but the Cruciatus was a bloodless curse. Only a few small patches of vomit and the fact that the man she'd called Frankie back at Hogwarts no longer recognised her stood as evidence to the horror they'd gone through.

Dawn sighed. She would never forget that day – Moody was almost as grief-stricken as Augusta Longbottom at the loss of Frank and Alice, and Alice looked around in bewilderment, hearing Neville's cries but no longer realising that he was her son. No – she couldn't do this right now. Now wasn't the time for bad memories, now was the time for focus.

There were a couple more people descending the stairs to the kitchen and finally she recognised somebody she was actually happy to see.

"Minerva!"

Her old head of House had insisted they were all adults, and equals, from the hour of their graduation, but calling her by her first name still felt a little strange, even now.

"Dawn! Wonderful to see you."

McGonagall stopped to chat, quizzing Dawn in her usual way about anything that came to mind, and muttering useful titbits about what various members of the Order had been up to that would help her keep up with the meeting. They were standing right next to the door now, it was impossible not to smell Mundungus and his old tobacco as he stumbled through, and Dawn couldn't miss the swish of robes that heralded the arrival of someone she was not particularly looking forward to seeing.

"Snape."

"Summers."

He looked like the same old Snape, sallow, greasy, and generally mean – only now he was slightly wrinklier. And he had still yet to learn the art of cracking a smile. She couldn't resist a joke – just a little one.

"What, no flowers? And here I was hoping you'd mellowed in your old age."

"And here I had assumed you had matured in yours," he returned dryly.

Dawn grinned savagely. She had always been morally opposed to picking on Snape when he was outnumbered and generally just a huge loser, but now all bets were off. They were adults now, and a good, childish, insult-slinging match was just what she needed to vent her frustrations. She gestured to his perfectly midnight attire.

"Love this new look you're going for, but are you sure the colour quite suits? I mean, those robes could be a little blacker, don't you think?"

Snape's black eyes narrowed, for a half a second his glance flickered to Sirius, apparently deep in conversation with Remus and totally unaware of Dawn's existence. "Clearly you're in a foul mood tonight, Summers. I can only assume that Black has yet to allow you to crawl back into the bed like nothing's happened. I'd say you fools deserve each other, but it's so much more amusing to watch you both miserable and alone, whining about your pathetic existences."

"Oh, stop it, both of you," McGonagall muttered irately. "I'm getting too old to put up with this nonsense from students, let alone supposed adults!"

But Dawn couldn't resist one last parting shot. "Speaking of beds, managed to lose your virginity legitimately yet, or are the only notches on your bedpost still from your Death Eater days of rape and torture?"

McGonagall gasped; one of her Gryffindors should never hit below the belt, but Dawn excused herself and disappeared before Snape could retort. When she threw herself into the chair next to Tonks, the young witch grinned at her.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Just a little bit."

An enormous Shaft look-alike came to sit with them – Tonks introduced him as Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Auror in charge of the manhunt for Sirius. Dawn grinned.

"And how's that working out for you?"

Kingsley grinned back. "Apparently he's hiding out in Tibet at the moment."

"Really? Tibet?" Dawn raised her eyebrows. "Have you managed to score a free trip to Tibet on that information yet?"

Kingsley's laughter was like thunder – a great, rolling, booming thing that turned heads. But before he could reply, there was a swish of purple robes at the door and Dumbledore was beaming at the group.

"Wonderful, wonderful," he said, as if they'd just thrown him a surprise party. "Good to see most of you are here – Alastor's on guard duty tonight, so it's just Sturgis we're waiting to hear from now."

Molly finished conjuring chairs and those who were still standing slid into them. Remus had set a teapot on the stove before rejoining Sirius, who was giving Snape filthy looks while Minerva wasn't watching.

"We've a new member with us tonight. Or, rather, we are rejoined by an old member," Dumbledore corrected himself, gesturing to Dawn. "Dawn Summers is quite the expert demon hunter, and she's looking forward to resisting Voldemort once more. Now, who'd like to report first? Severus?"

"There is not much to report at the moment," Snape said, gazing down his long, hooked nose at everyone. "The Dark Lord has Macnair leading the way to bring the giants onside. He suspects you are attempting to do likewise, Headmaster, but as yet has not discovered Hagrid and Madame Maxime. I have heard rumours that his attention will before long turn to his faithfuls in Azkaban. He may contact the Dementors in the hopes of breaking them out."

Dawn sat up a little straighter and saw Sirius do the same. Neither of them could stomach the thought of Bellatrix Lestrange back on the streets. She'd been half mad with power and evil when she'd been arrested, and Azkaban would've finished the job quite easily. Sirius' jaw clenched. He'd heard Bella screaming with the rest of them throughout the torturous nights in Azkaban. Over the years she'd become steadily more twisted, more vile. It would be safer to let a dragon loose in a kindergarten than to let her off that island.

Dumbledore looked slightly unsettled by the revelation, though he only showed it by the slightest crease in between his eyebrows. "Do you have any idea when he might make his move, Severus?"

"No," Snape said dryly. "Unfortunately I've had that information from Goyle, I believe Lucius Malfoy informed him, but we all know that Goyle himself has the memory of a newt."

"That might not be entirely fair," Dumbledore said mildly.

"To the newt," Bill Weasley muttered, and the extremely beautiful witch next to him threw back her mane of silvery hair and laughed.

"Oh, zis Beel, 'e is too funny!" she crowed in a thick French accent.

Sirius gave Bill the thumbs up, but Molly was looking at the French girl with a disapproving, slightly threatened frown. "Stay focused please, Fleur and Bill, we have a lot to get through and Dumbledore hasn't got all night."

'Fleur,' Dawn thought to herself while Dumbledore nodded graciously to Molly and carried on with the meeting. She'd heard Dumbledore mention that name… of course! Fleur Delacour – it was even in the International Magical News Bulletin, the four champions of the Triwizard Tournament. She was the part-Veela champion from Beauxbatons. No wonder they'd recruited her for the Order – if she could survive that tournament, she had to be a lot tougher than she looked. It was the blonde factor. Buffy had got away with it for years in Sunnydale before a few of the brighter vamps had wised-up and caught onto the act.

The meeting didn't last much longer, as there was nothing else of major importance to report. Lucius Malfoy was still to be seen stalking about the Ministry of Magic every other day, sometimes with Macnair, sometimes with the Minister himself. A couple of witches from the Department of International Affairs seemed quietly receptive of Tonks' suggestions about a returning danger, but she wasn't game enough to speak openly about Voldemort's return yet; Fudge's Senior Undersecretary was doing her best to have her beady eyes everywhere at once.

"Very well," Dumbledore said when Tonks had finished speaking. "The most important thing is that you keep your eyes and ears open. Don't do anything to rouse suspicion; I don't want anybody's jobs at risk."

He concluded the meeting by assigning the following fortnight's guard duties assignment. Dawn was a little crestfallen that she wasn't on the list, she'd been looking forward to the prospect of getting active for the Order again. If nothing else, it would give her something new to worry about for a change.

"Remus, a word?" Dumbledore said quietly as they all stood, and Dawn knew he was going to ask about the Gora. She strode right up to the old wizard.

"I need to talk to you."

Dumbledore looked mildly surprised – Dawn was usually the least likely of all the Marauders to interrupt – but Remus had joined them by this stage with a knowing look.

"It's ok, Albus. Dawn's been trying to help me with my research."

Dawn fought hard not to blush. She hadn't been 'helping' Remus so much as stalling him until she could find a way to convince Dumbledore that there was never, and would never, be any justification for a Resurrection Spell. The moment her eyes met Dumbledore's, she knew he could tell something was up.

"Why don't we meet in my office at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Just like old times," Remus grinned, brushing a wrinkle out of his shabby robes as he and Dawn rode the moving staircase up to the Headmaster's office. Dawn had decided against robes in the summer heat, and was clad in a pair of jeans and a light t-shirt. She smiled back.

"I feel like we should be getting our stories straight before the interrogation!"

They emerged into the office through the waiting open door and were waved into seats at once.

"Good morning," Dumbledore called, though there was a hint of tiredness behind his cheery greeting.

"Morning, Albus," they returned.

There was a beat of silence, then Dumbledore smiled expectantly. "Well, Dawn? I believe you have some concerns you'd like to share with me?"

"Yeah, I want to talk to you about this Gora egg you're after," she began, and when Dumbledore continued to stare at her with polite expectancy, she added, "I don't think you should do it."

"Do what exactly, my dear?"

"The spell!" Dawn burst out. "I'm not stupid, Albus, I know what a Gora egg is used for. Hell, I've used one myself! And you can't do it – it's wrong – you shouldn't… I won't just stand by and let you perform a Resurrection spell!"

Remus inhaled sharply, but Dumbledore's only reaction was a gently knowing look. "Dawn, I can understand how you came to the conclusion that the use of a Gora egg indicates a Resurrection spell, but I assure you I would never attempt such a thing."

Dawn's mouth opened and closed a few times and she suddenly felt about three inches tall.

"But…"

"Yes, of course, the first concrete evidence that reached my ears of such a spell being possible was our discussion after the murder of your wonderful foster parents," Dumbledore admitted and the fleeting, faded images of Harold and Cecilia Potter drifted across Dawn's heart.

She and James had been nineteen when the Dark Mark had been set over the two bodies in Godric's Hollow (they thought Voldemort must've murdered Harold himself), and only the dire need for a safe house for his wife and son could ever convince James to return there.

But Dumbledore was still talking, explaining his theory. "For many years I did nothing with that information, believing as you do Dawn, that those at rest should be left in peace. But then, of course, Voldemort struck Godric's Hollow once more, leaving Harry orphaned and almost entirely defenceless."

"Almost entirely…?" Dawn murmured, not sure why Dumbledore was heading down this path but knowing it would be important.

"There was one protection lingering over Harry, the force of love that Lily had evoked in shedding her blood for her son; as you both well know, Voldemort could not touch him."

"I don't understand," Dawn finally admitted, when Dumbledore lapsed into silence to give them an opportunity to respond. "I don't see the connection between Lily's sacrifice and the Gora egg."

"That's because I have not been entirely honest with you, Dawn. Do you remember our discussion, when you appealed for my aid in gaining custody of Harry?"

They were still dressed in mourning; Dawn had collected Harry from Privet Drive for his parents funeral that morning, and was refusing to take him back without meeting with Dumbledore over it. So here she was, sitting across the desk from the grieved-looking old wizard with a half-asleep infant clinging to her.

Harry hadn't been out of her sight for more than a few minutes all day. He was a playful baby by nature, and it was ominously telling to Dawn that he'd leapt at her as soon as she'd arrived at the Dursley's, and would only allow her to put him down without screaming if he was going to Remus.

"How is he?" Dumbledore asked, voice hushed.

"Ok at the moment – but if you could organise a bottle…"

"Of course."

There were a few moments while a house-elf (Locky, sobbing pitifully at the sight of 'poor master Prongs' dear little baby') had a bottle of formula prepared and Dawn settled Harry more comfortably in the crook of her arm.

"I know why you're here, Dawn."

"I can't take him back there. Please, can't he come to me now? I'm his guardian and I swore I'd take care of him."

But the old wizard was shaking his head. "I can't allow it, Dawn. I'm sorry, it's just not safe."

"Not safe?" Dawn spat, her eyes hardening. She would've been on her feet, but Harry was still in her arms. "What do you mean by that, Albus? If you've got something to accuse me of, I think you'd better come out and say it right now."

Dumbledore just looked at her sadly. "Dawn, if I believed for a second that you were in league with Voldemort, or in any way complicit with what happened, I would never have let you anywhere near Harry. Surely you realise that."

Dawn was beyond caring about gentle words and reassurances; she wanted to take her godson home, where he belonged. "Then why isn't he coming home with me? You know damned well there's nobody left in the world who loves him like I do. Petunia hated Lily, and Vernon's a pig, they'll never give Harry the home I will."

"I know you love him as if he was your own, Dawn, and you can be a part of Harry's life. Nobody can stop you visiting him whenever you like, but I can't let you take him. He's better off growing up in the muggle world."

"So I'll live in the muggle world!" Dawn yelled, and Harry's sleepy eyes popped open at the sound of her voice. She made a soothing, shushing noise and he settled quickly.

"You're a target yourself, Dawn. It would never be entirely safe. He'll be hidden, and safe in the muggle world. The Dursley's is the best place for him, and that's my final word."

Dawn remembered the day well. She'd ended up on her feet, Harry squirming in her arms, screaming that she'd take him away forever and that he was just a stupid old man and her family had nothing to do with him. Dumbledore hadn't risen to her bait, he'd stayed quiet and calm and waited for his opening. He was even crying slightly to see her pain when he told her, soft, but firm, that he had Harry's best interests at heart, and he would do everything in his power to keep him safe. Dawn had known then, that if she stood in Dumbledore's way, she'd never see Harry again. Distraught and beaten on every level, she'd finally promised to return Harry to his aunt and uncle's house. Dumbledore gave her a few moments to relive the memory in her mind before he pressed on.

"What I didn't tell you then was the full reason Harry needs to remain at the Dursley's when a much more fitting guardian was begging for him. You see, when Lily sacrificed herself to save her son, she created a protection with her love that could only be upheld if Harry remained in the care of a member of that blood line."

"Petunia," Dawn breathed, remembering how resigned, even if unwilling Lily's sister had been to her nephew's presence. "She knew – you told her."

"I told her only enough so that she would understand that Harry's life depended on her," Dumbledore admitted. "However she felt about Lily, or Harry for that matter, Petunia could not willingly abandon her nephew to death."

"Made his life a living hell though," Dawn muttered. "Why couldn't you tell me this fourteen years ago? All this time I thought it was something wrong with me, that you were keeping Harry away from me as much as anyone else. Do you know what that was like?"

"I know. I watched you struggle with life after James and Lily's death, Dawn, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you the truth about Harry's blood protection. I wondered if it would make you give up completely, and then before I knew it, you were gone. It has been one of my many regrets, and I'm sorry."

Dawn sank into silence. She didn't want to respond to that just yet. Remus broke in to steer the conversation along.

"So what's this got to do with your Gora egg?"

"Well," Dumbledore said, unfolding himself from his seat so he could pace. "I have a theory that, even though Voldemort, in using Harry's blood to return to his body, voided part of that protection so he can now touch Harry, we might be able to reverse it."

"So we aren't going to resurrect any one person, just the blood bond?" Remus clarified.

"It's risky," Dawn said, rejoining the conversation with a shake of her head. "If this screws up, who knows how it could affect Harry, Petunia, even Lily. You could remove the protection altogether, or worse, you could accidentally resurrect Lily! What are you going to do if she wakes up in her coffin, closed in and scared and not knowing what's happening to her?"

"I've spent months on this," Dumbledore promised, going to a cupboard and taking out a single sheet of parchment, which he handed to Dawn. "I believe I've managed a ritual which minimises the risk to Harry and Petunia, and poses no threat to Lily. The last thing I would want to do would be to meddle with the dead."

Dawn read the parchment. He'd certainly compiled a list of magical compounds which would be powerful, and a ritual which would be relatively safe. She didn't say anything for a long time, but the two wizards in the room seemed content to wait. Finally, she put the parchment back on Dumbledore's desk.

"Gora demons usually inhabit enclosed, dank spaces. Deep caves, but if they're too close to civilisation a sewer will do. They're protective of their eggs, though they'll keep to themselves mostly and feed on small animals, until you go for their young. Then they'll rip you limb from limb."

Remus was staring at Dawn incredulously. She'd watch him read useless book after useless book, and all along the knowledge they needed was in her brain. He was sorely tempted to hex her.

"Thank you for the information, Dawn. I believe I shall be able to track down our quarry much more easily now," Dumbledore smiled.

"You're welcome," Dawn said. "I have one request though – I get to be in on the mission. I'm going crazy doing nothing at Headquarters!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "It's a deal."

"And I want in on the next guard duty roster, too," she pressed.

"All right, all right, Dawn. I understand. You've got it."

For the first time that morning, Dawn smiled at him.

Dawn and Remus hadn't returned to Headquarters immediately after their meeting with Dumbledore, as Remus had wanted to stop by his own place and check that everything was still in order. It was a tiny cottage set deep in the woods, a short walk away from the nearest village so that Moony could have the run of the place without posing any risk to anyone on the full moon. The cottage bore the telltale signs of werewolf inhabitation, but all the locks and wards were securely in place; only a layer of dust over everything stood as testament of Remus' continuing absence.

Remus whizzed through his home, double-checking his wards, and grabbing a few extra books and robes, which he placed in his battered old suitcase. While he was locking up once more, Dawn shrank his suitcase so it could slip easily into the pocket. They walked towards the village, before they entered Remus slid out of his robes revealing a shirt and well worn slacks underneath, the robes slung over his arm like a jacket.

They had lunch in a café in the village, talking over all they had learned that morning in low voices until Dawn finally felt that she couldn't put off going back to Headquarters any longer without making the others worry. She paid for their lunch and as soon as they were far enough into the tree line that they could no longer be seen, they Disapparated with a little pop.

Harry was not having a good day. He'd awoken to Ron's grunting snores in the early hours of the morning with a splitting headache and had not been able to get back to sleep. Then the portrait of Mrs Black had screamed so shrilly he thought he felt blood oozing out of his ears because one of the twins had dropped one of their prototype fireworks down the stairs on the way to breakfast, which certainly hadn't helped his headache. He had been considering asking Mrs Weasley for a headache potion, but it was clear from her puffy eyes and the mountain of pancakes she'd made that her mother-hen routine was in full swing, and he half suspected she'd blame his headache on Sirius' refusal to wrap him in cotton and treat him like a precious porcelain doll. Ron whispered in his ear as they sat down that today was Percy's birthday, which explained Mrs Weasley's mood and Harry resigned himself to the dull pounding in his temples.

After breakfast, Mrs Weasley announced that they had the morning off from housework, but Fred and George's loud whoops were premature; they were going to have a homework day whether they liked it or not. So the soon to be fifth years (well, if Harry was lucky enough to make it to his fifth year) sat around the gloomy kitchen table under mounds of books and parchment while Mrs Weasley banged about with the oven, baking enough cupcakes to feed the entire Order twice over. Hermione of course had already finished all her assignments, but could not resist the opportunity to read ahead; though they had not received their Hogwarts letters yet, she had already purchased a copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five, by Owl Order and was four chapters in.

Harry sat staring blankly at the painfully tedious essay Snape had set, simply to torture his students during their brief spell of freedom from his dungeon classroom: Explain in detail the advantages and disadvantages of using the horn of the tropical black carnivorous toad in poisons. Harry felt he could answer the question in one sentence; the horn, when powdered, was virtually undetectable by sight or smell and so people would drink it without being aware that they were being poisoned until their throats closed over and their blood vessels burst, but powdering the horn was dangerous in the first place, as if you breathed in the powder, you would poison yourself. Unfortunately, Snape wanted two feet of parchment on the subject, so Harry was stuck poring over dusty volumes full of disturbing pictures of poison victims that Sirius had dug out of his father's library for him. He rested his head in his hands, squeezing at his temples as if that would help relieve the pressure in his head.

After a while, Hermione's voice filtered through to him and he looked up. "Harry? Is – is everything all right?"

She was speaking in a very tentative voice, her hand half stretched out as if she wanted to pat his shoulder but wasn't quite game. Harry looked away quickly. They were always like that with him now, Ron and Hermione, always acting as if he was going to explode at any moment. Just because he'd been angry they'd kept so much from him when he was stuck alone in Privet Drive, and just because he adamantly refused to have anything to do with Dawn. Ron wasn't as bad as Hermione there; whenever Harry went on a rant about how she had willingly abandoned him and Sirius to their fates and run off when they'd both needed her, Ron quietly agreed that he'd be angry too, but would not answer when Harry asked if he would ever be able to forgive such a sin. But Hermione almost acted as if she was on Dawn's side ("Oh, go on, Harry, give her a chance. She knew your parents too you know, and your grandparents. I bet there's loads she could tell you about your family if you asked. And I'm sure she's really, really sorry about leaving you with the Dursleys.") Clearly, Hermione did not understand at all what it meant to be left with the Dursleys if she was so willing to forgive and forget.

Hermione was still looking at him with a worried little frown, and Harry realised that if he didn't answer soon, he'd have Mrs Weasley mothering all over him.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "This essay is just driving me mad," he added, which was not technically a lie.

"Ok," Hermione said, though he could tell from the look on her face that she didn't quite believe him. It must be a girl thing, he mused, Hermione was always so much harder to fool about his mood than Ron.

There were a few minutes of silence, then, "Harry, if that book's no good I found this one to be very useful."

Hermione had dug a thick tome out from one of her several stacks of books and pushed it across to him. Ron looked up angrily.

"And what about me, eh? I'm having just as much trouble with this bloody essay, you know."

"Watch your language, Ron," his mother snapped over her icing bowl.

"You?" Hermione scoffed, rounding on the redhead. "If you wanted my help then you shouldn't have laughed at me when I was working hard on my homework at the beginning of the holidays, and you were reading Quidditch magazines!"

Harry groaned. He was just about to pick up the damned book and smack them both over the head with it to shut them up, when Mrs Weasley called "lunch!" over the din, and more to get away from his arguing friends than anything else, Harry offered to round up the twins, Ginny, and Sirius to come and eat.

The sounds of loud chatter and the clinking of plates and utensils weren't exactly soothing, but Harry found his headache slightly easier to bear with a few sandwiches and a large goblet of ice water in his system. Just as they were all finishing up, there were two brief 'pops' on the landing just outside the kitchen door, and a moment later Dawn and Remus had rejoined them.

Harry fought the urge to groan again. He didn't think he could handle the strain of trying to ignore Dawn all afternoon. A surprise visit from Snape would probably have been easier to deal with. Dawn and Remus called out a 'hello' to the group and took two of the empty chairs. Harry looked down at the scrap of crust left on his plate. Why did it have to be HER sitting across from him?

Mrs Weasley kicked into gear at once.

"Would you two like some lunch? I could whip up some more sandwiches in a heartbeat."

"No thanks, Molly, we've already eaten," Remus assured her.

"Oh, did you have something at the castle? Well, have a cupcake, anyway."

"Ooh, cupcakes! Yes please," Dawn grinned, perking up and grabbing one with purple icing. "We ate at Remus' after our meeting, he had to swing by and pick up a few things." She licked at a dribble of icing down the side of her cupcake.

"The castle?" Fred asked at once.

"A meeting?" George added.

"You were having a secret meeting with Dumbledore, weren't you?" they demanded together.

"I'd hardly call it a secret," Remus snorted.

"Well we didn't know anything about it til just now, and that's saying something," Fred pointed out.

All the Marauders chuckled at that. They used to be just as much of a hassle to the adults around them when they were that age.

"Well?" George prompted. "What was it about?"

"Nice try, guys," Dawn chuckled. "Do you really expect us to tell you that easily?"

"Can't let the children in on anything important," Harry muttered bitterly.

He thought he's said it pretty quietly, but obviously not quietly enough, because Dawn had whipped a reply out before anyone else could respond.

"That's not what I said, Harry," she said, and her voice sounded steely somehow.

Harry looked up, it was one of the first times he'd met her gaze squarely. "Might as well have. That's what's happening, isn't it? Keep Harry in the dark – even though he's the only one who saw Voldemort come back, he's too little to know anything about what's going on!"

"Har-" Sirius began quietly from down the table, but stopped. Without her stare leaving Harry's for a second, Dawn had held up a hand towards Sirius and he fell silent at once, as if he was respecting her wishes and staying out of the argument he could feel bubbling up in his very blood.

"Not absolutely everything we do is directly connected to you, Harry." He thought for a second that her eyes seemed a little darker than normal, but her voice was still clear and steady and the look was gone before he could be sure it was even there. "Quite frankly, what we were talking about is none of your business, it was a confidence between myself, Remus and Dumbledore that you have no right to demand us to break."

Harry was a little shocked at what she'd said, but he hid it behind his sneer. He knew that the entire house was raptly watching the argument; he could feel the eyes swinging between himself and the woman sitting opposite him.

"As if I believe you. I'm not stupid, you know… Or at least you'd know if you'd ever bothered to get to know me… I know Dumbledore thinks I'm too much of a kid to be counted and that's why he tried to keep me at the Dursleys and that's why he won't even talk to me."

"Nobody thinks you're childish," Dawn said, studiously ignoring his personal dig at her. "I know you're feeling like you got a pretty raw deal at the moment," – Harry snorted – "but have you ever stopped to consider that the reason Dumbledore wants you in the dark AT THE MOMENT is because you've got enough crap to deal with already? We're not stupid either, you know. And we all know that eventually you'll be up against Voldemort again whether we like it or not, so right now Dumbledore's keeping as much of the distractions away from you as he can."

Harry's jaw dropped in disbelief. She was giving him the 'it's for your own good' speech? The headache, the potions essay, everything that had been annoying him all day all boiled over, he leapt to his feet without consciously deciding to; rage had taken hold of him.

"Who are you to tell me – where does Dumbledore get off deciding – why – I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THIS CRAP FROM YOU! I'M SICK OF YOU PEOPLE THINKING YOU CAN CONTROL MY WHOLE LIFE!"

The whole table was frozen in shock at the outburst. Fred and George were absentmindedly popping chunks of cake into their mouths like they were inhaling popcorn at the movies. Harry was still standing, glaring down at Dawn, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his rapid breathing. Dawn herself was still seated, but those who knew her best could tell that she was easily as angry as Harry. It was almost like watching her argue with Lily all over again – one a wild tempest, the other a quiet, biting fury.

Dawn's whole face was shining with passion as if there was a fire lit just underneath her skin. Her voice was shaking slightly now with the effort to keep it from becoming a wild Banshee shriek. "You know what, Harry? I take it back – maybe you are too childish to be trusted with Order information. If you want to be treated like an adult, then why don't you GROW UP!"

Before Harry could register it all, Dawn had slammed her cupcake (now deformed from being clenched in her fist) down on the table and stormed from the kitchen.

She'd been holed up in her room for about ten minutes, slumped on the edge of her bed, facing the wall and crying as silently as possible when she heard the first tap at the door behind her. She ignored it; it had to be Remus checking that she hadn't either hung herself from the shower rail or started throwing all her worldly possessions back into her case. Hopefully he'd give up and let her lick her wounds in peace. She wished she'd brought her cupcake with her.

There was another knock. Then another, and another, and another. Dawn huffed.

"Unless there's an apocalypse waiting at the front door, PISS OFF!" she screamed as best she could through her choking tears.

Instead, the door opened and the figure on the other side strutted defiantly into her room, shutting the door behind him. He shrugged. "It is my house, you know, and Dumbledore would do his block if I went for a wander so I can't really 'piss off'. And since when do you use language like that?"

Dawn was so thrown by the fact that it was Sirius was crossing the floor to sit a couple of feet away from her on the bed that she just sniffled and answered. "Since everything sucks so much. I always knew that when the time came I was making everything so much harder on myself by leaving, but I never thought… I guess I was stupid not to realise that it might be too hard to come back."

Sirius just watched her crying for a while without responding. He wasn't sure what to say now that he was here. After she'd fled the kitchen, Harry had stormed off to his own room with Ron and Hermione trailing nervously behind him, but for some reason he'd stopped Remus coming up here, wanting to do it himself after ignoring her for the whole week. Maybe a tiny part of him felt guilty that he hadn't done anything to make their sticky situation more bearable for her. He, at least, had Harry's affection to draw comfort from, while she only copped his teenage angst and rage. Dawn was still crying, swiping in frustration at the tears that trickled determinedly down her cheeks.

"Don't cry, Dawn," he said gently. "You know all men are petrified of women when they cry."

Dawn gave an extra hard sniff, which he supposed was the closest he would get to a laugh.

"I'm doing a helluva job making him thoroughly hate me, aren't I? He's gone from ignoring me to screaming at me. I don't know which is worse."

He patted her arm, but it seemed like awkward gesture, laden with their history. It was lame when he thought of the way they used to hug and the warmth that spread through their whole bodies, but he wasn't game enough to risk that much contact yet.

"I don't think he really hates you. He's royally ticked off at you, sure, but I think deep down he actually needed that. I don't think he's had a whole lot of people get so worked up about him throughout his life. He goes from indifference and dislike at the Dursleys, to awe and instant celebrity at Hogwarts, but celebrity isn't very passion-inspiring. I think maybe you scared him a bit by getting so worked up over him."

Dawn shook her head, her eyes finally starting to dry. "Doesn't exactly make it a forward step, though, does it? I mean, I knew there was a chance that he'd never really forgive me, but all I want is for him to listen to me, just once, and then maybe one day he'll understand…"

Sirius' brow furrowed. It felt weird to be talking so easily with Dawn, but he didn't exactly want it to end, so he tried to keep her talking.

"Well, what do you want him to understand?"

Before Dawn knew it, she was pouring it all out. Not only how hard it had been for her to leave Harry in the first place, but everything she had learned from Dumbledore that morning, all the things he hadn't told her when James and Lily had died all came tumbling out of her mouth. Sirius listened raptly until she fell into silence again.

"I didn't know all that," he said quietly. "I thought you must have known about the blood protection and everything. I didn't know you'd tried to get custody of Harry."

Dawn laughed humourlessly. "Of course I did. What have you been thinking, that I just picked up and skipped off into the sunset the moment the dust settled? If that's what everybody thinks, it's no wonder you two can't stand the sight of me."

"Dawn, don't think that…"

Sirius looked at his lap sheepishly. He should've known better. But then emotion was always good at distorting vision. Dawn looked like she was thinking along the same lines.

"I guess our communication has sort of broken down for the last, oh, say, decade and a half," she mused.

He smiled slightly. "Yeah. It's probably time to work on that, isn't it?"

Her eyes widened. "You mean that?"

He swallowed. "Look, I don't know what this means for us – things are pretty messed up there. But I s'pose it's like being parents, I mean with Harry to look after and all. We both want to take care of him, and we both want what's best for him. Well, I reckon two heads are better than one there, and we can't work together if we can't get along."

"So where does that leave us?"

Sirius smiled again and held out a hand to shake. "Friends?"

Dawn smiled, some of the brightness returning to her face. "Friends," she pledged, shaking his hand and feeling its warmth.

Then, by instinct, they both leaned in and hugged on it.

"Thanks, Padfoot," Dawn whispered as they separated.

"What are friends for, Kitten?" he grinned. And without another word, he produced a fresh, undeformed cupcake from his robe pocket and handed it over.

Another chapter down… who knows when the next will come! XX Love Anoron XX