AN: Alright, I think I know when I'm defeated. If no one is interested in this that's okay, but if I don't get any reviews I'll just stop posting. I just need a little something to tell me that anyone is reading this, otherwise I don't know what ya'll are thinking. Review if you are reading, and review some more just to make me happy. Hell, tell me it sucks and I should never write again, just say something. Otherwise, this will be the last installment.
About a week later Harry received an owl from Ron. He and Sirius had just finished a most delicious meal of steak and eggs, served by the ever-astounding Kreacher, when something high above them fluttered in, squeaking and parroting noisily.
Harry's eyes shot upward in alarm as he saw the small silhouette of Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, sail through a small hole in the wall so near the ceiling he hadn't noticed it before. It was dark outside, and through the hole Harry could see stars beginning to appear in the hazy purple sky.
"Pig!" Harry shouted, jumping from his seat to catch the extremely tired bird. The owl hooted softly as it landed in his hands with a dull whump, slightly uncharacteristic to its size. "Oh please tell me Ron is back!" Harry muttered, setting Pig on the kitchen table and removing the letter from its small foot. Before he opened it, though, he fed the tiny owl a small piece of steak and the bird nibbled on it.
Dear Harry,
I am finally home! I got back yesterday night, Charlie brought me back so he could stay a couple nights with dad before returning to Romania. But dad has been so busy at the ministry he's been home a total of four hours since we've arrived, and since things aren't letting up any time soon, Charlie decided to go back and return for your birthday party instead. Bill and Fleur are spending most of their time at the ministry as well. Bill got a position as a Gringotts representative in the Department of International Cooperation alongside Percy.
I have got so much to tell you, and show you! Dad says I can come tomorrow morning if that is alright with Sirius. He can't be home much and feels horrible, especially since he's had to leave Ginny home alone so much, and reckons I am better off with you at your new place.
Let me know as soon as possible if tomorrow morning works for you. I know its late, but I'm sure Hedwig won't mind. Pigwidgeon is so pathetic, I probably wouldn't bother giving him another job.
Ron
"Tomorrow morning!" Harry said, grinning broadly and looking up at Sirius. "Can he come tomorrow morning?"
Sirius grinned back. "Of course he can. I thought that might happen, Arthur has been so tied up at the ministry lately. He sent Ginny to me for a couple days, even. Helped me unpack the kitchen things. Well, wonderful. How will he be getting here?"
Harry thought for a moment. "He didn't say. How can he get here? Broom?"
Sirius shook his head. "Better be the Floo Network. That's how Ginny came. Easy and painless. Tell him the name of the house is number nineteen Habeon Drive."
"Excellent!" energy surged through Harry's body. Energy that certainly had not been there two minutes ago but that overtook him completely nonetheless. He removed Pigwidgeon from the kitchen table and headed for the stairs, casting a furtive glance at the pots and pans, where he was sure a trap door lay hidden beneath its décor. "I'll be back in a minute, I'm going to write him back."
"I'll wait here," Sirius shouted back, sarcastically. "Don't worry about me."
A thought suddenly struck Harry as he reached the second step going up the stairs and he turned back. Sirius had just stood up and was about to open the refrigerator.
"Have we…" Harry began, trying to keep his tone even and uncaring, "have we got enough room for Ginny? Only Ron says that she's been left alone, quite a bit. It might be nice for her to have some company."
Sirius didn't even look at him, but opened the refrigerator door, rummaging around for something. "Yes, yes of course. She and Hermione can have the bedroom with two beds, then, when Hermione comes. She stayed in that room last time she was here. Good idea, Harry." He pulled out a small bottle and corked it open, taking a deep swig and letting out a sound of deep satisfaction. "Ah, Rosmerta always caught my heart, even as a young lad."
Harry chuckled as his heart leapt, for reasons unknown to him, and bounded up the steps, letting the door to his room fly open. He released Pig and the owl flew over to Hedwig, who had squawked loudly upon Harry's entrance.
"Wakey, wakey, Hedwig! I've got a job for you! Just a moment, though," said Harry, racing to the desk under one of the windows and beside Hedwig's cage. He pulled out a piece of parchment, then rummaged around looking for a quill.
Dear Ron,
Yes, of course you can come tomorrow! Sirius reckons you'd better come by Floo Powder. I think Ginny knows how to get here, but in case she doesn't, the name is number nineteen Habeon Drive. Ginny is welcome to come as well, we've got a space for her. See you in the morning!
Harry
He hastily folded the letter and stuck it into an envelope, writing Ron across the front center. Instinctively, Hedwig flew from her perch and landed on Harry's shoulder, allowing him to tie the letter to her talon. She hooted anxiously, not having had much to do yet over the summer, besides a trip or two to Sirius, and, now that he thought about it, one very long trip to Ron.
"Now, Hedwig, I know you're good, but Ron needs to get this before he goes to bed!" Harry said, the tension in his voice causing it to shake slightly. "Think you can do that? I'll have Kreacher whip you up some extra bacon when you get back!"
Hedwig hooted again and soared through the open window, clearly understanding Harry's urgency in a way he doubted any muggle postman would. He smiled gleefully after her.
Having spent the better part of June with Hermione, it hadn't occurred to him how much he had, in fact, missed Ron. He was so pleased that Ron had taken the job, mostly because he wanted him distracted from the reality of his mother's death, but also because opportunities don't arise like that very often. He knew Ron really liked his brother Charlie, and Charlie living so far away, did not get to see much of him. But now that he was back, he could say without shame that he'd missed Ron more than he missed Hermione, and that was saying something.
Before he rushed back downstairs to the kitchen, Harry looked fondly around his room, at all the work Sirius had put into making it a home for him. He couldn't believe how well everything was working out; it was like living someone else's life, but with all the benefits of his own. He couldn't remember ever having slept better than his first night in his new bed, which felt like diving into a hundred pillows. The Granger's guest room had been extremely comfortable and always smelt of the agapanthus Mrs. Granger snipped from her garden, but this was his room, his own room.
He grinned and shot back out the door, leaping down the steps and landing with a loud thud at the bottom, cringing slightly as a dull pain shot through his shins. He smirked and looked up, momentarily startled by the appearance of another man sitting with Sirius.
"Harry!" Lupin stood and walked over to Harry, grasping his hand and grinning broadly. "How are you?"
"Lupin!" said, another smile spreading across his face. "I'm fine, thanks. You?"
Lupin let go of his hand and led him back to the table. Sirius had stood and was rummaging through the refrigerator again, pulling out a bottle of butterbeer for Harry. Lupin looked happier than Harry had seen him in a long while, though that did nothing to hide his graying hair or the large bags under his eyes. His clothes did, on the other hand, look somewhat better groomed than usual and a vivid memory sprang to Harry's mind: the moment after Neville had killed Bellatrix and Tonks kissed him. He wondered, or perhaps hoped, if Tonks had anything to do with his relatively neater attire.
"I am excellent, thank you Harry," Lupin beamed. He sat back down, summoning a chair from the other room for Harry. Harry sat and accepted the butterbeer from Sirius, who was looking at Lupin with what seemed to be amusement. "I just spoke with Dumbledore this morning and he told me he brought you here only last week. I figured I must come see how you were settling in!" He smiled jovially and took a sip of the mead he clutched in a goblet.
"You just came while I was upstairs?" asked Harry, watching him. "I was barely up there for five minutes."
Lupin shrugged. "Guess it was the wrong five minutes," he said. "I didn't want to intrude on your supper unannounced. In any case, Dumbledore said you'd been at Hermione's all of June." He raised an eyebrow at Harry and looked at him questioningly, though Harry couldn't quite understand why.
"Yes, that's right," said Harry, taking a sip of his butterbeer to cover the slightly awkward moment. "Ron went to Romania for a month with Charlie and…well…she is my girlfriend."
"Yes, I am quite aware," said Lupin, casting a look at Sirius. "So, did the two of you…enjoy yourselves?"
Lupin was grinning almost manically, and Sirius was doing nothing to offer Harry any help, but stared with deep interest, his gaze shifting back and forth from Harry to Lupin. Harry had a shrewd idea of what Lupin might be hinting at, but since he had no desire to talk about it, he veered away from those dangerous waters.
"It was alright," said Harry, mumbling into another sip of butterbeer.
"Life away from school with a girlfriend proved to be a bit different than he expected, I think," said Sirius, grinning slyly at Harry. "He doesn't think she understands him."
Lupin raised a glass in a knowing way, but Harry glared at Sirius. What did he have to tell Lupin that for?
"Ah, I don't think any man ever thinks—" Lupin began, but was cut off.
"It's not that I think she doesn't understand me," said Harry hotly, looking away from Sirius to Lupin, now feeling as though he had to defend himself. "It's just with everything going on, with Voldemort killing left and right and not being able to do anything about it, it gets a bit wearing. You know…"
Lupin's gaze softened and he looked at Harry sympathetically, seeming to catch on. "It is a very tragic business," said Lupin gravely. "I don't imagine any of us can really understand the pressure the wider wizarding world has put on you, Harry, but we are here to help make the process a bit easier." He looked at Sirius with a glance that made Harry think they were sharing a thought.
"We can hardly ignore it anymore," Sirius said, heaving a sigh and sitting forward in his chair, clutching both hands around his mead. "I insisted to Dumbledore that I be the one to tell and, since Lupin mentioned he would also like to be present, perhaps now is as good a time as any." Both men were staring at Harry, their eyes focused and narrowed, but not in suspicion. More, in concentration, maybe even apprehension.
"Hermione obviously can't understand fully what the prophecy means, even though she heard it as plainly as any of us," said Lupin, "but I can only assume that is because you haven't told her the whole story." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Lupin held up his hand. "I am not accusing you of anything, Harry, not of being a bad boyfriend, or even a bad friend, but of explaining it from someone else's point of view. Someone who can see both sides of the issue."
"We were in Dumbledore's office, Harry, we heard it explained just as you heard it. In some respects we may even have a deeper and graver understanding of the trials you face ahead simply because of our experience with magic and the fact you are not finished with your magical education," said Sirius.
"That isn't my fault!" said Harry defiantly.
"Of course it isn't!" said Sirius, his voice rising alongside Harry's. "But that's exactly the point, isn't it? If you keep resisting help you are going to miss the important pieces of information that other people have to offer, the different perspectives of your own situation."
"That doesn't necessarily mean everyone with have something meaningful," said Lupin, "because it is up to you to decide what is and what is not important, but to take in everything, soak it all in, as though it is your last breath."
Harry scrunched up his nose, feeling something buzz inside his head. "I don't think I understand," he said, slowly.
"That is why we are here," said Sirius, nodding at Lupin, his rather short, black hair flickering like the flame on a candle. "Dumbledore told you that this year was going to be all about learning how to bring Voldemort down. He, honestly, hasn't told us much, but we suspect that is because he doesn't want to give us any more information than he would give you and would rather tell us all at once."
"Dumbledore will be giving you private lessons this year, Harry," said Lupin, his lips barely parting as though uttering a secret in a crowded room, "and we will be there to help."
Harry stared blankly, perplexed. "What kind…of lessons?" he asked, looking from Lupin to Sirius, trying to read their boyish excitement. Their eyes were piercing him with a hunger that he'd never seen in either of them before. At the same time it scared him, and elevated his heart rate, making him anticipate their answer without knowing in the slightest what was to come.
"You led your schoolmates into battle at the beginning of June," said Sirius, his voice hushed but his speech fast. "You knew what was to come, you anticipated Voldemort's movements. But now his movements are known to everyone! He is on the prowl trying to build up his army, since his forces were severely disabled, and immobilize as many of his most powerful enemies before attempting to fulfill the prophecy for a fourth time."
"His first was thwarted by your mother, obviously," said Lupin, his voice hushed as Sirius' had been, clearly dripping with the same adventurous hunger, "his second by your daring, standing up to him in the graveyard of Little Hangleton where the bones of his father lay. And third by Dumbledore just mere weeks ago."
Harry felt a sudden rush of information overload. Their words were coming at him so quickly, he felt he barely had time to comprehend them, but he listened with rapt attention, drinking in each man with the same thirst for information as they were hungry to pursue it then. It hardly occurred to them why they were so willing to divulge all this when last year he had to pry and twist their arms to know the very slightest about what the Order was up to.
"These lessons are as much a mystery to us as they are to you, Harry," continued Lupin, "but Dumbledore wants you to know why he's giving you the lessons…"
"And we wanted to tell you," Sirius finished, nodding with a finality at Lupin, who also gave him a nod. "So, for now, this is all you get, because we don't have proper time to go into much detail. But you will know, in short time, what we know."
Lupin glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Yes, my visit was brief, because I was dying to see your new place, but I must be off to meet Dora."
Harry smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Dora, eh?" Lupin grinned boyishly. "Spend much time at her house this summer, Lupin? Enjoy yourself, did you?"
"Very funny," said Lupin, draining the last of his mead and getting to his feet. "I reckon much of your father lives in you without your knowledge. Though I don't know what he would say about his fifteen year old son spending a month at his girlfriend's house with, excuse me, limited supervision."
Harry got to his feet, putting on a determined insolent glare. "I will be sixteen next week!" Lupin was grinning, even so. "She was at Grimmauld Place for Christmas last year, why didn't anyone yell at me then?" Lupin and Sirius exchanged exasperated looks, but Lupin finally shrugged.
"We are only saying," said Sirius, looking a bit more seriously than Lupin, "we don't want you moving too fast at such a young age. You've got the rest of you life to…make similar decisions." Harry crossed his arms and frowned.
Lupin coughed. "Well, Harry, it's not like we don't trust you to make good decisions. You are a remarkable young man with prodigious skill and potential and we don't want that to suffer from heartbreak! It happens to the best of men, but it can also bring the strongest men to their knees." Harry wasn't exactly sure what that meant, then wondered if it was bad that he didn't understand, if it meant he was missing something really important.
"No worries, now," Lupin went on, waving his hand in front of him as though swatting a fly. "I must be going. See you both next week." He winked at Harry, nodded at Sirius, and showed himself out of the kitchen. Moments later, they heard the front door shut and a lock click in place.
It was a moment before Harry realized he was still standing, and quickly returned to his seat, feeling a bit foolish. But his head was racing with terrified wonder and excitement. He looked at Sirius.
"Do you think I made a bad decision by staying at Hermione's?" asked Harry, seriously. He tried to read Sirius' face, but the man's eyes only glinted in the dim light of candles surrounding the kitchen.
Sirius took another sip of mead before answering, and when he did, he did so slowly. "I think that you weren't, forgive me, really thinking," he said. "Don't misunderstand me, there isn't anything wrong with wanting to spend time with your girlfriend or even staying with her and her parents for a short amount of time, but you were there for the best part of a month."
"So?" said Harry, slightly confused. Why did it matter the length of time he spent at Hermione's?
Again, Sirius stared at him with a look Harry could not interpret. His eyes were steady and narrowed, as though soaking in Harry all at once. "I know you haven't had someone to give you advice or warnings as consistently as a parent," said Sirius, his look changing from one Harry could not read to one of sheepish embarrassment, "and that might begin to put a strain on our relationship. For the last two years I have been a reckless friend who happens to have been appointed your godfather, but I trust you can understand the relationship I had with your father, for it is not unlike the one you have with Ron, perhaps even deeper since I knew your father for so long."
"What's your point?" asked Harry anxiously, not seeing what this had to do with anything.
"Harry, being your godfather, now endowed with the much anticipated responsibility of having you under my roof, I find it necessary to bestow both warnings and advice upon you," said Sirius, speaking fast, "for I know James would be very disappointed if I didn't raise you as if you were my own son! However, you turn sixteen in a week and I've completely missed your childhood, you've developed into your own person, a person free of reporting to a higher authority. Or at least one whom you respect."
Harry thought of Uncle Vernon and tried to conceal a smirk. But he finally knew where Sirius was going. Sirius was nervous that once he broke the ice that had solidified between he and Harry, clearly defining them as equals and friends rather than adult and child, he would lose Harry's friendship.
"Sirius, I know you would never tell me something just to get a rise out of me," said Harry, quietly, "I know that you would instruct me as my father would have. I want that, I have always wanted that. I have always needed someone like a father."
For a moment, Harry thought Sirius might tear up for his eyes reflected watery in the candlelight, but Sirius smiled contentedly and nodded, seeming to come to himself again. "Thank you, Harry, that means a lot. And I do wish to forewarn you that what I am about to say is purely because I care—"
"I know, I know!" said Harry, exasperated. "Get on with it already."
"Harry," said Sirius, "you and Hermione have been friends for a long time, I know that, and you've been dating for several months, I know that too. But when you spent so much time together that you had to begin employing occlumency to get through it, that worries me, and not just because it is typically useful against spell casting, but because it causes you to practically drain yourself of normal human emotion and replace it with something artificial, something absent of how we were made to work as humans." He paused. "Do you understand?"
Harry was looking at him, bemused, his nose scrunched up as though he smelled something particularly foul. "I'm not sure," he said, slowly. "Do you mean that I was better just leaving when we were fighting?"
Sirius shook his head. "Of course not," he said quickly. "It is never a good idea to just walk away from a fight, especially with a girl." He gave Harry a small smirk, then spiraled on. "There is a line between friends and more than friends, as I'm sure you know, one that can be broken or surpassed effectively if the relationship is right. All I am wondering is, are you fighting with Hermione because you are in love with her, or because she is so much your friend that once she became your girlfriend, all that changed was that you snog instead of chat?"
Sirius' comment had come so abruptly that Harry felt his face grow red hot. He spluttered for a couple moments before he could gather his mind to form a comprehensible sentence. "I love Hermione!" he said, defiantly. "We were fighting because of the stupid Daily Prophet, not because we're friends!"
Sirius looked alarmed, which caused Harry to calm down, but only just. "Harry, I would never dare suggest that you didn't love Hermione!" His eyes were wide and he sat back in his chair. "I am only asking if you are in love with her. Because, in the end, that is what makes the difference between a summer of healthy fighting, or a summer leading on a girl that you can't honestly and whole-heartedly love."
Harry stared at him. His mind went blank and he blinked a couple times. Honestly and whole-heartedly love? As in true love, Harry supposed, that kind of love that removes everything else from your mind.
And at that moment, without wishing it or boding it on, a vivid picture came to mind of a girl who was definitely not Hermione. A cold and gnawing pain arose in Harry's stomach, one that took over his entire body. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat and knew that he had to find a bathroom before he let out his dinner back onto the table.HerH