A/N- I know that Sirius and Harry didn't properly get to the bottom of his dream so I'll try and cover that in this chapter. Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. *cries*

Although Harry knew that Sirius had not quizzed him again about the reason for his early start several days ago, he felt that Sirius knew. He had revisited the graveyard that night in his dreams- and the night before that, and the night before that. Every night, in fact. Ron could sleep through a herd of hippogriffs- in fact, judging by his snoring, he liked to prove the fact every night by imitating them. Yet Harry awoke frequently, gasping for breath, the shadow of words upon his lips- No; Mum; Dad; Cedric.

Nonetheless, a busy day of cleaning took his mind off things. That was, until, Sirius asked him to help feed Buckbeak.

"So then, Harry," said Sirius, as they began to feed Buckbeak from the bucket of rats that Sirius had procured, "Sleep well?"

Harry avoided his gaze. "Alright, I s'pose."

"Just alright?" asked Sirius, smiling in infuriating understanding.

"Well, y'know," muttered Harry. "Usual nightmares."

Sirius leaned back against the wall, as Harry seemed absorbed by the sight of Buckbeak enthusiastically devouring a rat.

"I still dream about them," he said suddenly, his voice still a little unsteady. "All the time. Sometimes they're nightmares, about their deaths, or they blame me for killing them."

Harry made to interrupt, a dozen protestations in his head, but Sirius ploughed on.

"But other dreams are worse."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. What could be worse than dreams which targeted your innermost fears and insecurities? What could be worse than reliving the worst moments of your life when you are powerless to control the outcome? What could be worse than feeling as though you are drowning in pain?

"I know that it seems strange," continued Sirius, catching Harry's expression. "But the worst dreams can be the happiest. I dream that they are still alive, that James and Lily will just walk around the corner. But then I wake up, and it's the worst feeling in the world. Like I've lost them- all over again."

Sirius' voice quietened to a whisper, and he fell silent.

Harry took a deep breath. Now, he felt, was the time.

"I have dreams too," murmured Harry, "I always have, really. But lately, they've been worse. I just can't get the- graveyard- out of my head."

Sirius looked at Harry, wordlessly willing him to continue.

"It's alright when I'm busy, during the day, But at night, I can't force it out of my head, and-."

"Harry," broke in Sirius, "I know it's hard. But you're still processing everything that happened. It's natural that it will be difficult to process."

"I know," grumbled Harry, "It's just- I want to forget it all. The whole damned lot of it."

He sighed, fiddling with a hole in his sleeve. Sirius looked at him for a minute.

"You won't forget," sighed Sirius, "You never will. But time will dull the pain to a low ache, a memory of what evil brings. Never forget. Moving on is key, Harry."

Harry nodded. What Sirius said made sense, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

"Now, how about we go and find Molly? No doubt she's got something that needs cleaning."

Harry laughed, wondering what she had everyone doing now. Probably found another Doxy infestation, he thought ruefully, as they heard shrieks from downstairs. It was a wonder that the portraits weren't screaming with all the racket that was going on down there.

"Ok."

Sirius kicked a nearby table as they made their way out into the corridor.

"Bloody house," he moaned, as they began to climb down the stairs, "I always hated the place."

Harry grimaced in sympathy.

"At least you've got the order," said Harry bracingly, "I don't suppose your mum would be too happy about that."

Sirius grinned.

"No, somehow I don't think she would. Why do you think I was so eager to let the Order meet here?"

A/N Thanks to everyone who's reading. I really struggled with this chapter, so any pointers would be helpful. Thanks!