A/N: The title of this chapter comes from Neil Gaimen's 'Sandman'.

Chapter 2: A Dark and Stormy Nightmare

Harry opened his eyes.

He was lying on his back, staring up at the sky. It was a clear night, the stars twinkling brightly. He could feel a brisk wind against him. It was also extremely cold. He sat up, still gazing at the stars, shivering. Eventually, he looked around him, trying to work out where he was. He relaxed slightly as he realised that he was in the back garden at Privet Drive. But why was it so cold? It was the summer holiday, but it felt as if he was in the dungeons at Hogwarts during winter.

His breath misting in front of him, he stood up, making his way slowly back into the house. That was another thing. How had he wound up outside? Had he been sleepwalking? It had never happened before, but what else could it be? He crept through the kitchen, trying not to make any noise; his aunt and uncle would be very worried if they found out he was sleepwalking, which would result in some very boring fuss.

But he was unable to keep his cry of surprise quiet when he walked into the hall. The door of the under-stairs cupboard was frozen solid. He stepped nearer, and nearer, and recoiled as he realised that frost was forming on his pyjamas. It flaked away when he rubbed at it. Stepping forward once again, he reached out tentatively, touching the icy door.

He swore, yanking his hand away. The ice was so cold it was painful. He stood there, looking at it while he rubbed his hand, trying to sooth the pain. He itched to fetch his wand, and melt the ice, but he knew what would happen if he did. Perhaps there were some matches in the kitchen… He turned away, and that was when someone spoke.

Let me out. Please, let me out.

Harry went very still, before turning back to the cupboard, very slowly. It hadn't changed. It was still covered in ice, but other than that, all was as it should be. He stepped forwards again, watching it warily.

Nothing happened.

He stretched out, ready to jump backwards. The ice still stung him, but there was no other reaction. Perhaps the voice had come from somewhere else? With a cautious look upstairs, Harry began to search the ground floor. Ten minutes later, he had looked in every room, every cupboard, every kitchen drawer. He was the only person there. Upstairs perhaps? He walked up the stairs, wincing with every creak of the steps, eyes wide open for movement.

Again, nothing. And it really was nothing; no-one was there, not even his family.

Attempts at stealth forgotten, Harry began to run round the house, calling for them, but the only reply was a repetition of the plea, Let me out. Please, let me out. Harry burst into his room, throwing his trunk open to get his wand, the plea still ringing in his ears.

Please

"Shut up" he muttered.

Let me –

"Shut up!"

Please let me out!

"SHUT UP!!"

There was a loud crack from downstairs.

Harry went very tense, his senses alert. He silently left his room, his wand raised. Reaching the stairs, he listened carefully. Down in the hall, there was a steady drip, drip. He crept down the stairs, his back to the wall, mimicking the way he had seen Sirius' cousin Tonks move on Auror training. There was still no-one there. He stepped off the stairs, and gasped as he trod in something wet.

He looked down at the floor. It was covered in water. Splashing slightly, he walked over to the door of the under-stairs cupboard. Nearer the door, there were large chunks of ice floating in the water, and although the door was still covered in ice, it was definitely a thinner layer. Harry reached out, touching the ice again. It wasn't as cold now. He stared at it in confusion, wondering what the hell was going on. And then the voice spoke again, less pleading, but much more sarcastic now.

Well. It's a start I suppose.

Harry woke up.

He looked at his ceiling, blinking slightly in confusion, then he sat up, staring around him. The clock by his bed showed him that it was four in the morning, and he flopped back down with a groan. Just a dream. A weird, very confusing dream, but still nothing to worry about. He was used to weird dreams by now.

Despite this, he still got up, creeping round the landing, listening to the sounds of his family sleeping. Just in case.

"Harry! Hurry up, Sirius will be here any minute!"

Harry did a frantic last minute check of his room. Yes, he had everything he needed. Anything else would just have to be left behind. He would rather go without his possessions completely than wait around for Aunt Marge. Dudley was standing in the doorway, a grumpy look on his face, and Harry plastered a mock-sympathetic expression on his face. His cousin frowned in irritation.

"Wish I didn't have to stick around for her. How come you get to go?"

"Because when she's rude to you, you don't cause all kinds of spooky stuff to happen. That's the good thing about being a Muggle."

"It isn't as if she remembers what you did, she got – what is it?"

"Obliviated Dud. And no, I know she doesn't remember it, but that's the problem. She can't remember not to piss me off again, so it's better that I just get out of here."

Dudley scowled, putting his hands in his pockets and slouching against the door-frame.

"Wish I could give dogs wings…"

Harry looked up, a cheeky smile appearing briefly.

"Now, you know that I can't do that on demand. It was an accident, nothing more."

It had definitely been very funny though. His Aunt Marge was a vile woman; rude, arrogant and grotesque. She kept an equally foul dog, Ripper, as a pet. Every year, she would make the trip to Privet Drive to see her brother, who only put up with her because she was family. Apparently, she had been just about bearable before Harry's arrival at the house, but she had taken an immediate dislike to him. She hadn't liked Lily and James either, and fortunately had never met the other Marauders. However, four years ago, after a heavy meal and a large amount of alcohol, she had begun to rant about Harry. Too inebriated to listen to Vernon telling her to shut up, she had carried on, and on, until eventually Harry had snapped.

His magic had flared, and Ripper had suddenly sprouted enormous wings and razor sharp claws and fangs. Unable – and unwilling – to change him back, Harry had sat there laughing hysterically as Marge had raced around the house, trying to avoid her little darling. It wasn't as if Ripper was actually trying to hurt her; he was just too stupid and panicked not to. It had taken half an hour for the Obliviators to turn up and set everything back to rights. Since then, even after being Obliviated, she had never overtly criticised Harry, although this was down to Vernon nearly casting her from the house rather than any preservation instinct; she couldn't remember her dog's transformation after all. It had still been deemed appropriate that Harry went somewhere else for the week that she stayed with them. Just in case.

Harry and Dudley looked at each other, remembering the incident happily. Then they both burst out laughing.

"Harry!" his aunt called again, and there was the sound of a motorcycle engine roaring outside.

Harry and Dudley grabbed the trunk, manoeuvring it down the stairs carefully to avoid Petunia's displeasure. At the bottom of the stairs, Sirius was whispering something in Petunia's ear; as he finished speaking, she clapped her hands in delight.

"Oh, that's marvellous. He'll be so thrilled!"

"Who will? What's marvellous?" Harry asked.

"Oh… you'll see later on, don't worry."

"Oh, but Aunt Petunia – "

"Later. Now you be good, and take care of yourself, understand?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but grinned at her good-naturedly.

"I always do Aunt Petunia. You know that."

"A likely story. Now do drive carefully Sirius – and don't take him flying on that thing! I wish you'd get a car, I really do…"

"But Petunia, the bike's much safer than any car! Its got all kinds of protective magic on it!" Sirius protested, winking at his godson.

Petunia shook her head in despair, but she was smiling gently. She bent down to hug Harry, holding him tight, before stepping back to let him go. Sirius shrunk Harry's trunk with a wave of his wand, and Harry put it into his pocket. They both bounded out of the house, and Harry leapt into the sidecar, strapping his helmet tight under his aunt's watchful gaze. The engine roared, and they were away, Harry waving at his aunt and cousin over his shoulder.

Three streets away, Sirius gave him a mischievous grin, and with a flick of a switch they were invisible and rising into the air. Harry began to laugh as the wind rushed over him.

A couple of hours later, they were swooping down to earth, not far from Sirius' flat in Muggle London. Although by rights Sirius ought to live in his family's house, Grimmauld Place, he had sworn never to go back there after running away, and even after his parent's death, his resolve held. There were simply too many bad memories there for him.

It was a shame really. Harry had been there once when he was younger – Sirius had needed some of his parent's documents, and had been unable to leave Harry alone – and he had rather liked it. Oh, the house-elf, Kreacher, was vile to him, due to his mixed blood, and there were some rather creepy things there, but Harry had found the house mysterious and exciting. And the portrait of Sirius's mother was frankly hilarious. He would have welcomed an opportunity to explore it fully, but he knew that opportunity would never arise.

After unpacking his things, Harry wandered into the kitchen, and was surprised to see Sirius preparing food – much more than they would be able to eat between the two of them. The table was also set, another rarity; Sirius normally ate alone, in a comfy chair, not formally. However, Sirius only grinned at his questions, telling him that he would 'find out later'. Sulking, Harry retreated to his room with a book.

A couple of hours later, Sirius called Harry down to set the table, telling him that their guests would be arriving soon. Harry was still puzzled. Sirius was dressed casually, so it wasn't a major party, but they never went to such extremes for Remus and Peter for example. However, ten minutes later, it turned out that Remus and Peter were precisely the people joining them. Harry was pleased to see them of course, but still puzzled by all the secrecy, not to mention Remus's uncharacteristically wide smile.

"What are you so pleased about? What's going on?" Harry demanded. Remus's smile just got wider.

"Let's just say that from now on you can address me as Professor Lupin Harry."

"What? You're coming to Hogwarts?"

"Yep. I'm the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from September."

"That's fantastic!" Harry cried, a look of delight lighting up his face, before frowning. "But – what about your, you know, furry little problem?"

Remus's face seemed to split in two, his smile was so large.

"Dumbledore's going to get Severus to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for me." Seeing Harry's look of confusion, he elaborated. "It's a potion that will allow me to keep control of my mind when I transform. I'll still be dangerous, but only if I choose to be, and you know the likelihood of that!"

The celebration went on far longer than Harry would normally have been allowed to stay up at the Dursley's. Of course, that was one of the reasons Harry loved going to Sirius's place; his god-father was just responsible enough. After their meal (take-away – Sirius wasn't the strongest cook, and the food he had been preparing had taxed his abilities too far, nearly setting fire to the kitchen) they were all sitting in the front room, chatting amiably about nothing of consequence, the Wizarding Wireless chattering away in the background. Peter had just made Sirius turn red with embarrassment after recounting a story from their days at Hogwarts, when the music that had been playing was interrupted with a crackle of static.

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an urgent newsflash from the Ministry of Magic…"

The Marauders looked at each other in concern, having heard too many of these in the past. Suddenly, Cornelius Fudge's voice began to echo around them.

"It is with deep regret that I must announce the escape of the Death Eater Evan Rosier from Azkaban prison, at midnight last night. Several guards were killed in the incident, and it is believed that Rosier escaped with a stolen broom. His current whereabouts are unknown, although we can confirm that he is unarmed at present. However, he should still be considered extremely dangerous, and should not be approached under any circumstances…"

Peter swore quietly, drawing a disapproving look from Remus. Sirius had gone very still, and very pale. He looked terrified. Harry had never seen him looking like that in his life. Personally, he felt rather confused. Who was Evan Rosier? When he voiced the question, Sirius shuddered. Remus answered him in grim tones.

"He was part of the Inner Circle, probably one of the two most trusted Death Eaters next to Bellatrix Lestrange. He was incredibly sadistic, incredibly violent, and borderline insane before he went into Azkaban. I dread to think what he's like after twelve years of being exposed to the Dementors…"

Silence fell across the room, and then Sirius spoke, almost whispering.

"He was one of the people who tortured the information about James and Lily out of me."

Harry felt a spike of hatred jab through him, uncharacteristically strong even for the subject. Remus reached over to Sirius, trying to draw him out of the painful memories. Harry looked over at Peter, who was sitting there, an almost blank expression on his face, and his thoughts went to his training. He had improved quite a bit under Peter's tutelage, but not as much as he should have done.

He would do better.

It was two days later. Peter and Sirius had been called to Hogwarts for a meeting with Dumbledore, and Harry and Remus were heading for a day out. They had arranged to meet the Weasleys in Diagon Alley, before moving onto Kentigern, a dimensional extension in the north. Hermione was still on holiday with her family, waiting for their annual summer camp to end, otherwise she would have been there, as would Neville. However, his grandmother didn't approve of Kentigern – it was far too common for the proud Longbottom family apparently.

In between catching up with his friends – Fred and George had joked about Penelope Clearwater once too often, resulting in him jinxing them, and they couldn't decide whether they were shocked or delighted – Harry was troubled by the rather tense atmosphere around them. The district was just as busy as normal, but far quieter, the shoppers occasionally looking over their shoulders nervously. He pointed this out, and Fred and George nodded, suddenly looking uncharacteristically serious.

"It's 'cause of Rosier."

"Yeah, he's really got everyone worried – "

" – because no-one's ever broken out of Azkaban before."

"And Dad was saying that the Minister's letting the Dementors off Azkaban to help search for him!"

Harry halted where he stood, staring open-mouthed at them.

"What? You're joking! Is he insane?"

While Fred and George appeared to give this matter serious consideration, Ginny spoke up.

"I'm sure they'll be controlled, they wouldn't be allowed out if they were dangerous, would they?"

"Ginny, Dementors can't help being dangerous; it isn't as if they can control the way they suck the happiness out of you, it just kinda… happens."

She looked sceptical.

"If they're so awful, how come the Ministry employs them?"

"Better to have them inside pissing out then outside pissing in little sister." said Fred – George? Probably Fred, his jumper had a G on it – clapping her on the back heartily. "And of course, there's the small matter of Fudge not being worth his weight in gold."

Harry shrugged.

"Oh I don't know. Have you seen him? He isn't exactly skinny is he, he'd probably be quite heavy if you converted him to gold… Actually, is there a transfiguration spell for that do you think?"

George sniggered.

"If you can pull that one off, we'll give up our titles as pranksters extraordinaire young Harry. We look forward to reading about it in the court papers."

The image of Harry transfiguring the Minister on a whim sustained their good mood for another half hour or so, during which much shopping was done. Harry and Ron were feigning mortal injuries, much to Ginny's annoyance. Her mood was not improved by the fact that she couldn't cast magic at them. Of course, she was perfectly willing to resort to more physical measures, and did so with relish. Shortly afterwards, they were all walking up the street – or limping in Ron's case, while Harry was wheezing slightly – still chattering aimlessly, Remus overseeing it all with a genial smile. As they walked, Harry gradually became aware that he could see his breath misting in front of his mouth, and he stopped, breathing heavily in confusion. It was August for heaven's sake! Merlin knew that British summer was something of a misnomer, but this was ridiculous.

Then he saw that Remus had drawn his wand.

"Moony? What – "

And then the windows in the shops began to ice over, and Harry fell to his knees in shock.

No, please, not Harry!

Stand aside you foolish girl, and I might even spare your life.

Go to hell!

Crucio!

Screams, dreadful screams, and then the high, cold voice once more, taunting her. She – his mother – cried out a spell,but the cold voice just laughed.

There was a flash of green light.

Harry opened his eyes, sweating, and feeling as if a ball of ice had taken up permanent residence in his stomach. He shuddered, looking around. Remus was aiming his wand at – something, something foul. As Harry stared at it, it seemed to meet his eyes. With a gasp, Harry felt something being sucked out of him, and his mother's screaming echoed in his ears again. His magic bucked in response, he could feel it rippling under his skin, trying to lash out against the foulness in front of him, to stop it hurting him, but he didn't know how, didn't know what it was, and now it was hurting Ginny as well, she was falling to the floor, her eyes screwed shut, and his mother wouldn't stop screaming in his ears –

Expecto Patronum

White magic flared from his body, from his fingertips, his eyes, his mouth. It went flooding past Remus, and hit the foul, insubstantial creature in the chest, sending it flying backwards. The ice on the windows cracked, and the sense of foulness left him, gradually. He was able to stagger to his feet, and he looked at Remus in terror.

"What… What the bloody hell was that?"

Remus looked at him grimly, not to mention a certain amount to puzzlement.

"That was one of the Dementors of Azkaban. Lovely things aren't they?"

Harry shook his head, unable to speak. He couldn't believe that the Ministry would use things like that, not even Fudge! He was pulled from his reflections by the sound of sniffling. He looked up, and saw that Ginny was crying gently. Ron and the twins were trying to comfort her, but they didn't seem to be getting through to her at all. He stumbled over, as Remus hurried over to a nearby shop, fumbling for some money. Ginny looked at him as he kneeled down.

"I was back there… it was awful."

He rubbed her back, whispering to her.

"It's just a memory, it's not real."

The three of them spent some time bringing Ginny out of her shell before Remus returned, clutching a stack of chocolate. They sat there, nibbling at it, and soon Ginny's colour had returned. As they ate, Remus looked at Harry.

"Good job Harry, but I didn't realise you knew the Patronus Charm. And I've never seen it performed without a wand… Instinctual magic perhaps? There are theories that magic can be sentient at times…" Remus trailed off into quiet musings on how Harry had managed to cast the spell.

Harry frowned in confusion. He didn't remember casting any magic. And what was the Patronus Charm? He shrugged, going back to his chocolate. A matter for another day perhaps.

A/N: Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated.