A/N: So after only a little deliberation (because let's be honest, I really do want to get back into story writing!), and encouragement from some very loyal readers, I HAVE decided to start this story up again! I found a skeleton of this chapter lurking in the depths of my computer and I liked it, so I beefed it up, and here it is. It turns to the Order now, so you'll have to stick around to see what has become of poor Harry! This is unbetad so all mistakes are mine. I hope, after all these years, this chapter does not disappoint. I am feeling the pressure to deliver now thanks to all my very loyal readers who have been so patient with me, so hopefully this lives up to your expectations. If it doesn't, I LOVE constructive criticism, I'm a big girl and can take it. Just don't flame, it doesn't help me improve. Thanks again to all who reviewed and said please write again, I continue for you! Okay enough rambling! On with the show!

Randomchick16: I would love to take you up on your offer to be my beta. Your messaging feature isn't activated so I couldn't reply to your review but if you are reading this and are still interested, please let me know and we can go from there! Thank you so so much for offering!

Chapter Three: The Beginning of the End

Sirius Black was glum.

Leaning his back against the wall, he absent-mindedly stroked Buckbeak, his loyal companion who had taken an extreme liking to Sirius after a year on the run together. Sirius smiled grimly. Two wanted men on the run from the law who only had their wits to keep them safe.

But they were no longer on the run now. Shut up in Grimmauld Place, after only a few months the pair were both feeling the darkness of depression creep in. Sirius had tried to tell Dumbledore it wasn't right to keep a wild animal caged up in a house for months at a time. "He deserves to be out there, flying, stretching his wings. It's damn near cruelty what we're doing to him. At least let him get out once in a while!" But Dumbledore had refused. Sirius understood his logic; Buckbeak's execution hadn't disappeared when he had, and Dumbledore would be even more trouble than he already was if Buckbeak was seen. But still. Sirius had faintly hoped that Dumbledore might extrapolate that HE wanted to get out once in a while.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

His only consolation had been writing to Harry, yet Harry's replies had gone from lengthy letters to mere paragraphs. Sirius couldn't blame him, he'd do the exact same thing what with everyone been shrouded in secrecy and sending cryptic letters. But still. Those letters had been the only bright spot in a long tunnel of bleakness Sirius had been careening down ever since Harry came back with a dead body slung over his shoulders. Some days, Sirius considered saying to hell with the Order, and taking Buckbeak to Harry. Yet that would be utter hypocrisy from a man who had been telling his godson to keep his nose clean.

So, for the umpteenth time, to keep his sanity, he slid down the wall to the hard, cold floor, pulled out another scroll of parchment, and began writing to Harry.

Hiya Harry,

I know your birthday is coming up soon, and I'm trying my damndest to convince everyone to bring you here for it, or even before then. I know it may not feel like now, but I'm on your side. Really, I am.

Sirius paused, wondering if those words sounded too…needy. Well, he had sent Harry about 15 letters in a little over a month, if Harry thought him needy it wouldn't be from the way he styled his letters. So to hell with it then. He would write how he wanted.

I know I keep saying this, but DO NOT DO ANYTHING STUPID. I cannot stress this enough. I know, hypocritical right? But take me at my word Harry. I wouldn't stress it, if I didn't have cause for concern. I know you're pissed. I KNOW. If I could do anything about the secrecy, don't you think I would? I'm trying, but I'm outnumbered in opinion.

Sirius paused again. He was practically pleading with his godson not to be mad. At any other time, Sirius would have been disgusted with himself at such an overt display of vulnerability. But being at this place made him crazy, and he'd rather tell Harry about his feelings than anyone else.

I'm feeling just as alone as you are,

So now he was treating Harry like a diary. But oh well.

so we can be miserable together haha. When you come here, and that's a when, not an if I hope you notice, I'll fill you in on EVERYTHING, I promise, even the things the others don't want you to know. But I'll tell you, you deserve to know. I hope you like the treats Molly sent you two days ago. That was my idea I'll have you know. See? I do have your back.

Sirius

With a flick of his wand, the ink was dried, the scroll rolled up neatly, and Sirius heaved his thin frame off the floor to find an owl. Maybe this letter would beckon a return to the essay like letters he loved to receive. Maybe.

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"We have a very grave problem." It was an Order meeting, and Sirius was disengaged. He was tracing shapes on the dusty table, his head propped up by his hand. Dumbledore was blathering on again. He knew it was important; this was Voldemort they were talking about, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. Dumbledore had already made it very clear Sirius' only use would be to play host. He wouldn't even give him the courtesy of being a foot solider.

"There are muted rumblings that the dead are coming back to life." Blah, blah, blah, Sirius thought moodily as he wiped out his shapes with a sweep of his hand. Voldemort was using Inferi, what else was new?

"Inferi?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked in his deep, rich voice.

"That is what I thought at first as well, but it doesn't seem to be. It is the recently deceased, and they are primarily situated in the Muggle World. Moreover, rumour has it that the dead can turn others like them by transmitting bodily fluids, usually by a bite." Sirius rolled his eyes. Inferi. That's exactly what it sounded like.

"What do you mean, 'muted rumblings'?" Mad-eye Moody barked. Sirius was now doodling on the underside of his forearm. He was so pale that his drawings could be mistaken for tattoos. Sirius smirked, remembering his wench of a mother's reaction when he had showed up with a Muggle tattoo on his shoulder after a wild night out with James.

"The reports are scarce and differ wildly in details. The only common theme is what I just outlined. There doesn't seem to be many yet, thankfully, but it seems like Voldemort has found another way to raise the dead besides bewitching them. They do not seem to be acting like mere puppets, indeed some reports say they have retained primitive logical skills and have some degree of free-will. We will have to stop them before they multiply. Sirius." Sirius lazily looked up at the mention of his name. Dumbledore was giving him a rather severe look that Sirius did not appreciate.

"You will have to warn Harry." Sirius sighed heavily, and proceeded to immerse himself in an exaggerated stretch. He had not really been listening, and he saw no reason why he would have to warn Harry, though if it gave him another excuse to write to him, he was all for it. Dumbledore and the others were glaring at his laissez-faire attitude.

"Remind me again why I have to warn a boy who's more than capable of taking care of himself?" Sirius drawled slowly, relishing in the fact that he was angering the others. Well they deserved it. They had all voted to keep him shut up in this house. Sirius would exercise his little chances of payback with gusto. Dumbledore continued to stare unblinkingly.

"Harry, while an extremely brave and capable young man, does not have the knowledge or skills to take on hordes of Inferi. Like Dementors, it is one thing to take on one, quite another to deal with hundreds." Sirius began to crack his knuckles, still looking as calm as calm could be. Inside though, he did feel a tinge of worry, but he'd be damned if he gave Dumbledore the satisfaction of being right. When he didn't answer right away, Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, peering over his half-moon spectacles with a firm gaze.

"Alright, alright, I'll write to him," Sirius said finally, launching into another long stretch. "But you really need to give him more credit; he's a smart kid, he doesn't need adults running behind him all his life. Besides," Sirius paused, lifting his steely grey eyes to stare Dumbledore straight in the face, "if you really cared about him, you'd allow him to come here." Dumbledore did not reply, though Sirius could swear there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

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What seemed after only a few minutes of sleep, Sirius found himself being roughly shaken awake. He was astounded to find his best friend Remus being the culprit.

"Bloody hell Remus! Do you have any idea what time it is?" Seeing Remus' face stopped Sirius from making any more remarks. Remus was nearly as pale as he was, his face contorted into pure panic. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"Harry."

Immediately, Sirius was out of bed, hastily pulling an old Gryffindor jumper over his bony body. He felt like the breath had been knocked out of him, and if it wasn't for the adrenaline now surging through his veins, he surely would have collapsed on the floor from how hard he was trembling.

"Is he hurt? Is he missing? Kidnapped?" Sirius couldn't bear to say the last word that he had been thinking. But Remus wouldn't answer, couldn't answer, and only flew down the stairs to the kitchen, Sirius hot on his trail.