Author's Note: Hooray for winter break! I've been able to write so much these past two days, but once I go back to school that will slow down...a lot. sigh. So enjoy it while it lasts, and don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: This all belongs to Jo. Well, maybe not the heroin-shooting Harry, but you know what I mean ; )

Chapter 3

Harry went down to dinner that night and was greeted by almost everyone in the Order. Most of them only had time to quickly say their hellos and then be off, but Harry noticed they somehow managed to stay an extra few minutes, during which many shot quick glances at his forehead. Harry felt that he had never flattened his bangs more times in his life, and was relieved when the majority of them left. It seemed only Snape and Dumbledore had been absent, a fact that didn't bother Harry in the slightest. He would gladly put off that reunion indefinitely.

Now the kitchen had been emptied out until there was only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, their two youngest children, Hermione, Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, and himself. The other Weasley children were working that night, and Harry could tell Mrs. Weasley was rather subdued because of it. Lupin and Mr. Weasley were discussing the latest news on werewolves. On the other side of the table Hermione and Ginny were gossiping about something that was evidently making Ron's ears turn a handsome shade of pink. Harry wasn't really paying attention to either conversation, and almost jumped when Dung suddenly spoke up.

" 'arry, you don't know 'ow sorry I was to 'ear 'bout ol' Sirius. Good fella 'e was. 'elped me outta a tight spot on more 'n one occasion. 'e said I could stay 'ere for as long as I needed too. Good man."

All the other conversations quickly died down. Ron was looking back and forth between Harry and Dung, mouth slightly open. Hermione was staring at Harry as if afraid of what might come out of his mouth in response. But it was Lupin who actually stepped in and saved Harry from having to think up a suitable answer.

"Yes Dung, he was a good man. Ginny will you pass the potatoes?" As Ginny moved to comply Lupin looked at Harry and said in an undertone, "Harry meet me in the sitting room after dinner. I have some things I would like to discuss with you." He looked away again. "Thank you Ginny. These look delicious. Molly did you make these yourself?" And with that Lupin steered the conversation back into safe territory.

Harry, however, was no longer hungry. He had a good idea what it was Lupin wanted to discuss with him and was not eager to do so. Out of nerves, he began to scratch at his right arm.

"Got yourself a rash there Harry?" Ginny asked good naturedly.

Harry immediately dropped his hand to his side, and spent the rest of dinner gripping the seat of his chair.

"Harry, have a seat. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Molly wanted to talk about…things." Harry turned around from where he was staring into the fireplace to look at Lupin sitting himself down in a chair. Harry could tell that by 'things' he had meant Harry. He silently complied with the request and sat down upon the couch closest to him, and farthest from Lupin.

Lupin sat silently for a few moments, as if trying to collect his thoughts. Harry waited impatiently, unable to get comfortable on the slightly lumpy couch. Finally Lupin broke the silence.

"When we were younger, Sirius was the first one to discover what I really was. Instead of being afraid or shunning me, he offered to listen anytime I wanted to talk about it." Lupin was staring off into space, lost in the memory. "I'll never forget the feeling of relief that came over me when I realized I wasn't loosing our friendship." He now turned to Harry. "Harry, I'm not your godfather and I would never try to replace him but if you want to have someone who will be there to listen, you can always come to me. I think it would do us both some good to talk about him."

Harry's answer came quick and angry, "I'm fine. Why does everyone seem to think I need to talk about it? Maybe I don't want to talk about him." He crossed his arms across his chest glaring at Lupin.

"No one ever truly wants to talk about these things Harry, but it's the best way to move on. Bottling up these emotions can only lead to trouble."

Harry's mind flashed to a spoon and syringe, but he quickly suppressed those thoughts. "I'm fine," he repeated.

Lupin sighed in defeat. "Alright, if you insist. Well there is another matter I have to discuss with you, but it pains me to do so. Sirius' will was found a few weeks ago."

Harry had a sharp intake of breath.

Remus continued, "And almost everything was left to you, including this house."

"I don't want-"

Lupin held up his hand, cutting Harry off. "I know you don't want it, and neither would I if I were in your shoes. But it's very useful as headquarters and the Order would like permission to keep on using it."

Harry shrugged, "Alright I guess." His leg started trembling. "Can I go now?"

Harry could see on Lupin's face that this was not what he wanted to hear, but nevertheless he conceded, "Yes Harry, you may leave if you wish."

Harry stood up and left the room as quickly as possible. Once outside the door he leaned his body against the cool wall taking in deep breaths, eyes closed. He didn't want to discuss Sirius, least of all his will. It made his death so real, so final. No one was alive after their will had been read. When Harry finally got himself under control he rushed upstairs to his bedroom only to be greeted with the sight of Ron and Hermione doing some serious snogging on Ron's bed. Harry could only stand in the doorway with a look of shock on his face. When Hermione realized he was there, she sprang apart from Ron faster than Harry had thought humanly possible.

"Harry," she said breathlessly. "You, you should have knocked. That was um, well we were going to tell you, but er, you see…" she trailed off looking at Ron for support.

Despite his reddening face, Ron chuckled shaking his head slightly, "Harry what Hermione is trying to say is that we," he motioned between himself and Hermione, "are now a couple. I hope that's alright with you. It happened only a few days ago and we were going to tell you later this week once you'd been settled."

Harry recovered slightly, "Oh."

"Well then, look at the time! I think, I think I'll be going now. I'll see you boys later. Goodnight." Hermione practically fled from the room.

The two boys were left to stare at each other. Harry broke the silence. "Well that was certainly unexpected."

Ron began to grin, "Yeah, I know it's a bit of a shock, but I really like her Harry."

Harry couldn't hold back his laugh. "No not that. I knew you were in love with her since 4th year. What's surprising is that I think that was the first time I've ever seen Hermione at a loss for words."

Ron's grin was devilish now. "Actually there has been one other time. It happened just recently in fact."

"Do I even want to know?"

Ron thought about that for a minute. "Well, maybe not." He switched topics. "So what was it Professor Lupin wanted to talk to you about?"

Harry immediately stopped smiling. "Nothing important. Just Order business, you know." He shrugged it off. "I'm getting tired. Reckon we should turn in for the night?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

They changed into their pajamas and got ready for bed. Harry lay awake some time later, unable to fall asleep. Despite what he said earlier, knowing his friends liked each other and then seeing them together we two entirely different things. He kept fidgeting around, his muscles aching, begging him for some more heroin. He forced himself to stop moving for a minute while he strained his hearing for Ron's telltale snores. Sure enough, he was sound asleep in the opposite bed. Harry got out of his own bed as silently as he could, but it seemed that every floor board was determined to alert the house of his movements.

Finally he made it over to his trunk and gathered up his supplies. It was too risky to shoot himself up right there, so he headed down the hall to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he yanked the floral pattern curtain shut, and lay his head back against the tub, knees slightly bent to fit his body. He still had the belt securely tightened around his right bicep as his head lolled back and forth. The bathroom was nice, he decided, plenty of privacy.

A week past as Harry readjusted himself to life in Grimmauld Place once again. The bathroom had become his sanctuary. Whenever he felt the need to shoot up, he would retire to the tub where he could do his business in privacy. And now that Hermione and Ron were a couple, Harry was able to quietly slip away whenever they wanted some 'alone time.' It was an ideal situation, but there was a hitch: Ginny.

Harry got the impression that she knew he was up to something. She never out rightly denied him space or alone time, but he could tell she was suspicious. Harry decided not to think too much about it though. She didn't know what he was doing, and she had no proof. What did concern Harry, however, was his stash. He was starting to run low and had no idea how he would survive if he ran out. He knew the only reason he was able to live in this house without being plagued by nightmares was because of the drugs. He would need to find some way to get more.

He was sitting at the breakfast table, moving his sausage around his plate with his fork as he mulled over ideas in his head. Maybe the floo network? Sitting at the table with him was the same group from the first night's dinner, plus Tonks, who had joined them for a cup of coffee. He vaguely heard the now purple haired witch excuse herself to use the bathroom. A few minutes later he was awakened from his reverie by the angry sound of her voice reentering the room.

"Will someone please explain to me what the hell is this?!"

Tonks threw a syringe and empty baggie onto the table, startling everyone. Harry felt the all the blood drain from his face as the needle rolled back and forth slightly until it stopped in front of him.

Ron spoke up first, though his mouth was full of sausage. "Tonks wuds da madder? What's dat ting? Looks painful." He shuddered and Molly Weasley lightly smacked him on the head.

"Swallow before you speak Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley turned to Tonks. "Now dear, what's all the fuss about? I've never seen one of those things before. Is it a muggle contraption? Arthur do you know what it is? Has it anything to do with electrikity?"

Tonks cut Arthur off before he could speak. "Yes it's a muggle thing. It's called a syringe. I found it in the waste bin in the bathroom and someone in this house has been using it." She glared at everyone seated around the table. Harry tried not to visibly gulp, but he felt a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach.

Ron, who had managed to finish chewing, still seemed confused. "What do you mean using it? What? Do they poke the baggie with it?"

Tonks shot him a look that could kill. "When I mean use it I mean that they are injecting themselves with the drugs in that bag by sticking that syringe into their arm." She looked disgusted as she said the words.

Hermione let out a gasp and reached for the bag. She picked it up and began to inspect it. After a minute she set the bag down again and looked at Tonks. "This is heroin isn't it?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously. "Yes it is. And how would you know that?"

Hermione didn't seemed fazed by the accusation in her tone. "Same way as you, I expect. Growing up with muggles teaches you things."

The Weasleys looked back and forth between the two women before Ron spoke up again. "Alright what are we missing? What's all this about heron?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, immediately going into dictionary mode.

"Her-o-in Ronald, not heron. It's a mind altering drug that originates from opium in the poppy plant. It can be inhaled, smoked or inserted through use of needle." She made a sound of disgust. "Which is clearly what the person here has done."

Tonks interjected. "It's a disgusting muggle habit that is extremely unsafe and addictive. No respectable wizard would use it." Harry thought it was a bit hypocritical of Tonks to preach about 'respectable wizards.'

Hermione looked thoughtful at that last comment. "Actually there seems to be a mass epidemic of use among squib communities. They seem to think they can forget about their problems in life by being high all the time."

Ron stared at her. "I've never heard of that. How do you know all of this?"

"I read Ronald. It's in plenty of books, but it's not widely publicized. People would rather pretend the problem doesn't exist."

Mrs. Weasley stood up from her seat and looked around the table. Harry was determinedly staring at the nearest teapot, which had a blue knit tea cozy surrounding it.

"Alright who has been using this, this heroin drug? I want an answer now!" Mrs. Weasley stared straight at Dung who was half-asleep with his elbow propped on the table. She clearly thought he was the most likely suspect.

Ginny on the other hand, had other ideas. She spoke in a small but determined voice. "Why don't you ask Harry?"

Harry heard the room go silent as he whipped his head up to stare daggers at his accuser. Ginny was refusing to look away, and Harry noticed all seven other pairs of eyes were on him as well. His left hand made a move to scratch at his arm, but he quickly suppressed the urge. He tried to compose his features in a look of offended horror, not entirely sure it was all that convincing.

"What are you playing at, trying to accuse me? I haven't done anything. I don't know where that stuff came from, but it sure as hell wasn't me." He folded his arms across his chest.

"Alright Harry, then explain to everyone where you've been sneaking off to all the time. I know you lock yourself in the bathroom whenever you think no one is watching." Ginny wasn't about to back down, but neither was Harry.

"Maybe I have an overactive bladder. In any case it's none of your business."

Harry glared at Ginny, refusing to look at anyone else for fear of what he would see on their faces. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when Ron spoke up for him.
"Ginny don't accuse Harry like that. People are allowed to use the bathroom, you know. Besides he doesn't 'sneak off'. You're being mental." Ron rolled his eyes at his sister.

Ginny shot back. "You are too involved with your girlfriend to notice Ron. He goes away the second you to leave the room, and comes back looking all dazed. My bet is he is doing that," she motioned to the syringe and bag.

Harry was beginning to panic. This was quickly turning into a nightmare. When Ginny's gaze shifted back to his to stare him down, he averted his eyes and returned to the tea cozy. It really was well made. He was just noticing the pattern of the stitching, when Lupin spoke up for the first time. Harry had almost forgotten he was there and inwardly cringed.

"Harry," Harry's head jerked up once more and saw the pain and betrayal in his former professor's eyes. "Is this true? Is Ginny telling the truth?"

Harry's first instinct had always been survival. That would never change. "Of course not! I-I've never seen any of that before!"

Now his gaze searched the table for a friendly face. Ginny was looking determined, Ron and Hermione were slowly becoming more and more horrified, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting back, unsure of how to act, Dung was still out of it, and Tonks looked like she could kill. She had her hands splayed across the table and was leaning towards him.

"Well there's one way to know if he's telling the truth. Roll up your sleeves!" Tonks barked the order at him.

Harry blanched. The Weasleys looked confused.

"What are his sleeves going to prove?" Harry couldn't help but notice how truly ignorant Ron was in all of this.

"You'll see. Harry come now, just roll up your sleeves and you can prove to us all how innocent you are." Tonks tried to adopt a convincingly soothing voice, but it clearly said she didn't expect him to be innocent at all. Harry was suddenly very afraid of this purple haired auror.

There was nothing he could do; if he didn't, Tonks would just force him. She was normally a good natured witch, but Harry could tell she was in auror-mode. She would get an answer out of him no matter what.

Slowly he leaned back in his chair and unfolded his arms. He first unbuttoned his right cuff and then his left. Harry started rolling up his sleeve as calmly as possible, praying no one would notice the marks in his arm. Maybe they wouldn't see and all of this would blow over. The right sleeve was done first; then he set to work on the left. All the while he kept his elbows bent so no one could get a good view of his arm. When he finished both sleeves, he put his hands down by his sides.

"Harry, put your arms out so we can have a look." Lupin said quietly.

Harry couldn't bring himself to look into their faces, so with a sigh he closed his eyes and stretched his arms, wrists up, out in front of him. He knew by the gasps that they had seen it. Track marks, tiny little puncture wounds, riddled the crook of both arms. They stood out brightly against his pale skin and some were scabbing over while others were fresh from repeated use. Harry quickly dropped his arms and pushed his sleeves back down over his wounds.

The silence was broken by the sound of Hermione's chair scraping across the floor as she rose to her feet. Her voice was laced with venom and hurt.

"How could you be so stupid Harry?!"

Harry vaguely thought that at least she was no longer tiptoeing around his feelings. He just shrugged.

"Don't just sit there and shrug! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Harry looked up, and matched her glare for glare. "You're yelling not talking. And what do you want me to say, huh? That I use heroin? Yes, the needle and bag are mine, and so is the spoon and belt I have upstairs. Are you happy now?"

Hermione looked as if she'd been struck. "Of course I'm not happy Harry. How could this make anyone happy? My best friend is a heroin addict, and I- we," she motioned to herself and Ron, "didn't even notice."

"I'm not an addict," Harry grudgingly mumbled.

Tonks spoke again, "Oh yes you are. Don't lie to yourself, or us Harry. How long have you been using?"

Harry dropped his gaze and muttered, "Four weeks." He couldn't look up again as Lupin spoke.

"Alright we need to get rid of this stuff. I won't allow any more of this heroin to stay here." He moved to stand. "Harry is there more?"

At the mention of loosing his stash, Harry's whole body began to ache for a hit. He snapped out viciously, "This is my house. Sirius left it to me. If I want to keep smack in it, then I damn well will."

"Oh no you won't mister, not while the rest of us live here," Tonks said while pulling Harry up by the bicep. "Now, take us to the rest of this crap."

Harry was steered out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He noticed only Tonks and Remus joined him.

When he entered his bedroom he couldn't bring himself to open his trunk, so he just motioned towards it. Lupin got the hint, and began digging through its contents. When he pulled out Harry's supplies of syringes, spoon, and what few baggies he had left, Harry made to grab them, but Tonks held him tightly.

They marched back downstairs, and Harry could do nothing but watch helplessly as Lupin picked up the syringe and bag on the table and tossed them into the fireplace along with the rest of Harry's supplies.

"No! please, take them out! I promise I won't do it again, just don't burn it all," Harry pleaded to Lupin. When that didn't work, he tried another tactic. "Do you have any idea how expensive that shit was? Take it out of the fire right now!"

He looked around at the room of unsympathetic faces, and felt his world closing in on him. His legs gave out from under him, and Tonks released his arm as he dropped to the floor.

"I- I need that stuff. You don't understand. My, my nightmares. They'll come back if I don't have it. I can't survive, I'll die, believe me I'll die." Harry was practically sobbing by the end. He watched through his tears as his precious heroin all burned away. Nothing was left, nothing. What was he going to do? He felt Mrs. Weasley come over to him and lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Come up to bed dear. It will all be better in the morning."

Harry allowed himself to be steered out of the kitchen once more. He knew what she was saying wasn't true. He could already feel his body craving another hit. The muscle aches would start in soon, and he wouldn't be able to sleep. Well that was something. He would be saved from his nightmares for a little while at least. But everything would be so much better if he could just have one more dose.

He didn't even bother changing out of his clothes; he just kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. Mrs. Weasley bade him good night, and closed the door. Harry curled himself into a ball, and couldn't hold back the sobs of pain. A little while later he heard the door open, and Ron stepped into the room. He avoided looking at Harry as he collected his pillow, blanket and a change of pajamas. So they weren't letting him stay with him? Apparently he was too dangerous for Ron to sleep in the same room with. Or maybe Ron didn't want to be with Harry; maybe he couldn't stand the sight of him any longer. Harry turned his back to his friend and stared at the wall.

It was 12:01 when Ron finally closed the door.

"Happy Birthday mate," he whispered into the room.

Harry didn't hear.