Harry went back to the Rec. Centre with Tegan every day. He bought himself a season pass and managed to get his Firebolt and Quidditch robes there without anyone noticing. So wrapped up in training he was that he nearly forgot his appointment with Dumbledore and only remembered because Hedwig returned on Monday morning with his letter from Ron (who was ecstatic for and jealous of Harry all at once. 'We have one near the Burrow, but can't really afford to go there.') as well as a note from the Headmaster saying he that he couldn't wait to see Harry.
Early Tuesday morning found Harry dressed in his best robes and waiting eagerly for the Dursleys to leave for their day trip. The second the car was out of sight he grabbed his bag of Floo powder and hurried to the fireplace. Harry really didn't like travelling by Floo, but it was the only way for him to reach Hogwarts so he emptied the bag of powder into his hand and stepped into the fireplace. Taking a deep breath he threw the powder down saying 'Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office loudly and vanished into the green flames.
Dumbledore was seated at his desk when Harry stumbled out of the fireplace covered in ash and straightening his clothes, and he was surprised to see Remus Lupin also standing there. Grinning Harry waved happily to Lupin and then turned to Dumbledore.
"Please Harry, have a seat. You too Remus," Dumbledore said, gesturing to two comfy looking chairs, and the two complied, making themselves comfortable. Harry's pleasure at seeing Lupin and Dumbledore drained quickly away at the glum atmosphere that surrounded them both. "Harry," Dumbledore began quietly, almost hesitantly, "the reason I've called you here is because I have news… news of Sirius." Harry's heart leapt at the statement, automatically assuming that it would be good news, but the look on Dumbledore's face told him otherwise and he felt the familiar ache welling up from the bottom of his stomach. "I know you may be wondering what the archway was that Sirius fell through, and though you're not supposed to have any knowledge of it's nature I am going to tell you. You see Harry, our world is not the only dimension that exists. In fact there are many, more than any one person could even know about. There is one plane that we are particularly close with." Dumbledore, paused, frowning. "Us at Hogwarts and of the Order anyway. This place is called D'ræya, and it's a sort dream dimension." Before Harry could form a question Dumbledore held up his hand. "I won't try to explain too much, as it's a lot to wrap one's mind around. Essentially it's a parallel world to ours that's opened up when we dream. Occasionally we even visit there in our sleep. But even if we don't our dream energy called Ideya does. Now, there are creatures there, humanoid and intelligent that live off of Ideya, the same as we do with air, food and water. It's in their very cells.
"Anyway, the veil that Sirius fell through is the only known entrance to D'ræya that can be accessed while being awake-"
"So that means Sirius is there?" Harry interrupted.
Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. "He was. Harry the thing about D'ræya is it's meant for the creatures that live there, Nightmaren, or just maren, not for humans. It taxes a person, physically and mentally."
"Why?" Harry really didn't like the way this was going, but he asked anyway.
"Because maren live off of this energy, Ideya, which we humans create and expel, so in essence maren feed off of our energy. So by placing a human in the midst of their world the very life starts to be slowly sucked from them. Not by fault of the maren, of course, they're not evil creatures. Most of them anyway. But that's just how it is. We're not meant for their world."
Harry sat staring at Dumbledore trying to figure out what this meant. So Sirius had gone into another world, which means he should have been able to get back, right? He looked at Dumbledore hopefully, then at Lupin, but both averted his gaze. "You said he was there, so that means he's out now right?" There was a great surge of something Harry hadn't felt when thinking about Sirius in a long time: hope.
"Harry coming back through the veil is much more difficult than going though it is," Lupin said softly. "I don't know the whole process of it, but it's not something Sirius would have been able to accomplish, especially injured. The maren did their best to take care-" he broke off abruptly.
Harry just stared at Lupin, almost daring him to finish the sentence. But he didn't need to, Harry knew what they were telling him and it felt as if his chest had been ripped open, and he felt pain so intense that he couldn't breathe. It felt like losing Sirius over again. The brief moment at hope he had received had almost made it feel like Sirius was alive again, but then it all came crashing down again and the familiar agony of his death washed over him again. And it was final this time. Although he'd come to terms with his loss, there had always been the idea deep inside him that Sirius would be able to come back, but he'd never dwelled on it, not wanting to hurt more than he had to. But this… this new information meant that there really was no hope at all of seeing his godfather alive again, and it tore him apart inside.
Then a sudden anger welled up inside him and he exploded. "WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THIS?!" He yelled, startling the snoozing portraits that lined Dumbledore's office. For a moment neither Lupin or Dumbledore answered, but then Dumbledore spoke.
"The veil was an unknown factor to you Harry, and I know that you would have had some desire to search it for Sirius, that you had hope of being able to find him through there. It would be unfair to you to let you believe something that was just not true. And we couldn't risk you going through there."
"But... why didn't you tell me this in the beginning?"
"Again, because you would have tried to go to D'ræya," Lupin replied and stifled Harry's objections. "We know you Harry," he said sternly.
"You could have gotten him! You did! His… he is here now, you said, so you would have had to go get him."
"And we would have Harry," Dumbledore said. "But you see, the Ministry and the monarchy in D'ræya are not on good terms, so to speak. We had to wait until we could get into the Department of Mysteries without alerting the Ministry."
"WHO CARES IF THEY DON'T GET ALONG! SIRIUS COULD BE ALIVE!" Harry shouted furiously.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "No, Harry. With Voldemort loose we could not risk a feud between the two worlds when our efforts need to be here. It would be disastrous to be fighting two wars at once."
Harry fumed silently, fighting back tears and angry retorts. That made sense, but it didn't stop him from being angry. The fact that Sirius had been alive and possibly rescued burned a hole of regret and terrible frustration through him.
"I want to go home." He said suddenly, his voice trembling.
Nodding Dumbledore rose. "If you wish Harry, although the castle hospitality is open to you." Harry shook his head and Dumbledore nodded again, looking at Harry with very sad eyes. "The Floo powder's here then," he said softly, gesturing to a container next to the fireplace. Harry rose mechanically and took a handful of the powder, avoiding the sympathetic looks Lupin was giving him. "I'm sorry Harry," was all Dumbledore had a chance to say before Harry stepped into the green flames.
Back at the Durselys' everything seemed incredibly gloomy despite the sun filtering in and the cheery breeze flowing through open windows. He felt numb all over again and could hardly feel his legs as they carried him up the stairs and into his room, where he closed the doors and shut his blinds. It took him a moment to notice Hedwig sitting on his desk next to two packages and a letter. He glanced briefly at them before turning away, but was stopped by a soft hoot from Hedwig. "I don't want to open those right now," he told her, but the owl nudged the long skinny package at him, hooting again. He tried to ignore her, but her calls became louder and more persistent until, sighing in exasperation he reached for the package and tore into the paper. A wand rolled out and landed on his desk with a soft clink, and Harry felt another familiar twinge in his chest, recognizing the wand immediately. It was Sirius's. The sight of the wand was too much for Harry and great cry escaped from his throat. He could hardly breathe as sobs racked his body and the tears flowed in a seemingly unending stream from his eyes. He couldn't think properly as every thought he possessed was filled with images of Sirius, from him smiling happily at his parents wedding to the last time Harry had seen him, getting hit by Bellatrix Lestrange's curse. They all flashed through his mind at lightening speed and, try as he might, Harry couldn't block the visions from his mind any more than he could stop the terrible agony that overtook him where crumpled to the floor of his dark little room.
That was where Aunt Petunia found him later that evening when the Dursleys had returned from their trip, curled up in the carpet, having cried himself into a restless slumber. The terrible pain he was in was obvious from the grief on his face, red puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks. She felt an uncharacteristic, if very brief, wave of compassion for her nephew; pain was universal, and the degree of it Harry was obviously in softened her just very slightly. Rather than wake him rudely the way she had planned she closed the door again and went back downstairs.
Waking, only minutes after his Aunt left, the first thing Harry noticed was the crick in his neck from the way he'd been laying, which cracked quite loudly when he turned his head. He felt drained, energyless and is was all he could do to craw into his bed and pull the covers up over him. Hedwig hooted dolefully and fluttered over, landing on his pillow. Harry stroked her feathers, grateful for the comfort. "Thanks Hedwig." The owl hooted a comforting reply and nibbled at his ear. It only took a few moments for Harry to nod off again and Hedwig, though she would have loved to go out and hunt in the night, stayed by Harry, loyally watching over him.
Harry woke with a bit of a jolt from a fitful sleep (as usual) the next morning as Uncle Vernon came banging on his door. "Get up!" He yelled through the shut door, though trying not to sound too rude. "There's someone at the door for you and she won't go away till she sees you." Harry grumbled a reply and could hear Uncle Vernon's heavy steps thudding back downstairs. That'd be Tegan at the door (as if anyone else would ask for him), and Harry wasn't surprised; they were supposed to have met that morning to go train, but he was sure it was long past their scheduled time, so she would have come to find him. But, predictably, he wasn't at all interested in training today. In fact he wasn't even interested in getting out of bed or leaving his dark, depressing room. Regardless he'd have to go talk to Tegan and let her know that he wasn't going today, so he hauled himself out of bed still in his robes from yesterday that were now quite rumpled, and made his way downstairs.
The Dursleys gave him a dirty look, and Harry thought Aunt Petunia might faint from his scruffy appearance, but he pointedly ignored them and went to the from door where Tegan was waiting on the front step. She took one glance at him and immediately asked if anything was wrong.
"No, no, I'm fine," Harry lied, and fairly unconvincingly so, but he made it very obvious his tone that he wasn't interested in talking about it.
Tegan nodded in an understanding way that Harry was grateful for. "Well, I guess I'll leave you be for today then?" At Harry's nod she smiled a bit, though looking worried, and waved goodbye to him. "Come find me tomorrow if you want."
Relieved at how perceptive Tegan had been Harry went back up to his room, again ignoring any looks or queries from the Dursleys and sank back into his bed. Of course, he didn't feel like doing anything whatsoever, and felt fairly emotionally drained still, so he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling as the morning sunlight tried to fight its way in through the shut blinds. In a way he felt a bit guilt about storming out the way he did; really, he hadn't given Dumbledore much room to explain anything. But then again, Harry didn't want anymore explanation. Sirius was dead, really dead, and that's all he needed to know, and any other information was useless next to that fact. Still, there were a lot of questions that bounced around Harry's mind, that perhaps Dumbledore would have had an answer for.
Dwelling on it, Harry felt all the more guilty, and he found himself wanting to go back to Dumbledore and just talk. He'd been cooped up at the Dursleys' for only a couple of weeks, but he still felt like he would suffocate there. At least he had Tegan, and the Quidditch centre. Harry felt another twinge of guilt and realized he'd have to make it up to Tegan for being so short with her. But she had looked like she understood, and perhaps she would be someone that Harry could talk to. That thought cheered Harry up, even just slightly. He really did enjoy the time he spent with her and was beyond ecstatic to have someone from his world around over the summer. Perhaps he wouldn't even need to go back to see Dumbledore, he thought optimistically. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he didn't want to use up any of his holiday time at Hogwarts (a definite first for him); he could speak with Dumbledore when the school year started. He would however write to apologize.
Harry was jolted from his reveries by a sharp call from Hedwig, and Harry realized that she hadn't been outside at all since yesterday. His eyes misted over a bit, thinking about how she'd been there when he'd woken up, hooting her encouragement to him and stroked her feathers appreciatively. "How would you like to take a note to Dumbledore for me?" He asked her and the snowy owl ruffled her feather importantly in reply. "Thanks."
Harry scrawled a brief note to Dumbledore apologizing for the way he'd acted and requesting time to speak with him at the start of term, then gave it to Hedwig, who hooted and soared out the window when Harry opened it for her.
That resolved , Harry found some cleaner, neater (and more mundane) clothes and went into the bathroom for a long, hot shower then downstairs for some lunch (was it that time already?). The Dursleys had gone out into the yard to very loudly admire Aunt Petunia's newly blossoming garden, so he thankfully was able to prepare and eat his meal in peace. The day seemed quite a bit more brighter after his bit of reverie, even if it was plagued by a constant ache that, though Harry couldn't quite pinpoint where it originated from exactly, he recognized it easily and knew it was something could survive. He'd done it before, and knew he could do it again, perhaps even easier this time. His mind and emotions wanted badly to dwell in the grief and regret, but Harry knew that it would get him nowhere. Oddly mature for his age, he realized that it would be much easier for him to be strong and push through, rather than let the feelings rot him.
The Dursleys marched back into the house just as Harry was exciting the kitchen and was heading toward the front door.
"Where are you going? You've been disappearing all week," Uncle Vernon demanded.
"Nowhere in particular," Harry answered. "It's too nice to be cooped up inside."
It was obvious the Uncle Vernon wanted to order Harry back up to his room, to stay inside, but he knew that he couldn't, or they would have a non to pleasant visit from the Order, so he nodded, making his beefy chins jiggle a bit. "Fine, fine. Stay out of trouble, boy," he warned before storming back into the kitchen in what was unmistakable pout.
Being the middle of the afternoon it was scorching, and even just walking down to the end of the road, Harry felt himself sweating, and regretted not having gone out earlier. He didn't know if he even wanted to attempt to bear the hour long walk to the Centre that day, but stepped up onto Tegan's porch and knocked on the door. A kindly looking middle-aged lady answered and on sight of Harry her hand flew to her mouth with a little gasp.
"Goodness me! Are you who I think you are?" Harry didn't have time to make any reply for the lady had excitedly ushered him inside and yelled down the hall. "Cid! Come see who it is! Tegan, you're friend's here! - Can I get you anything Harry dear? - Cid! Bring some lemonade and cookies will you? - Please, make yourself comfortable."
While Harry was quite used to treat much of such sort, he was a bit surprised to receive it from Muggles. But Tegan had said that they were as into the Wizarding world as any magic-folk. He stayed quiet while the lady gabbered on to him, introducing herself as Fran, and hollered on to the two still unseen people in the house.
Tegan arrived in short order, rolling her eyes. "I'm sorry Harry, I ought to have warn you," she whispered, taking a seat next to him on a big flowery overstuffed couch.
"It's alright, I'm used to it. She reminds of someone I know, anyway," Harry replied quietly, and accepted the refreshments that Fran offered him.
The beginning of the afternoon went pleasantly enough with the two Muggles questioning Harry on just about everything he'd ever done, even though they already knew most of the stories almost better than Harry did. Finally they were satisfied and asked him if they'd sign a clipping from the Prophet (which turned out to be the interview he'd done the year before) before heading off to attend to whatever needed to be done.
It was a bit to late (and far too hot) to go out to the Centre so Tegan suggested they work on some of their homework together out in the yard. Harry didn't have any of his things with him, and really didn't want to go back to the Dursleys' to get them, so he opted to help Tegan with hers. She was going to be taking her OWLs this year and wanted to be as far ahead as she could, and Harry was only too happy to help her out.
So they lay, sprawled on the cool grass out back with books, parchment, scrolls, quills and ink bottles littered everywhere. "Alright, I think that should just about do it for this paper," Tegan was saying. "Although… I think maybe if I could squeeze in something on the Patronus I'd get extra marks," she said slyly, glancing over at Harry, who only too happily explained in great detail about the charm. From there they were distracted from work by talking about Harry's third year, where he'd first learned how to produce a Patronus, and the topic lead to Remus Lupin and their endeavours at the end of that year. Tegan listened eagerly as Harry told her everything he could remember about what had gone on and found that when he got to Sirius he could talk easily about his godfather, a great step from earlier that month.
"You mean that convict, Black, is your godfather?" Tegan asked leaning in close, eyes wide.
Harry shook his head. "He wasn't a convict, Tegan, remember? It was all a set up by that little worm, Pettigrow."
"Right." Tegan wrinkled her brow. "So whatever happened to him then? If he got away, then where did he go? You must keep in contact with him if he's you're godfather."
Harry fell silent for a moment, then sighing heavily he said, "He was on the run for a while, then he got into his old family house and stayed there with Buckbeak until last year." He broke off and squeezed his eyes shut briefly, willing the pain back down. "He… he was murdered at the end of last year by one of Voldemort's-" to Harry great surprise Tegan didn't flinch or cry out in the way most people did "- followers, Bellatrix Lestrange." He was met by a second of stunned silence and then:
"I'm so sorry Harry. That's terrible. If you don't want to talk…"
"No, I'm alright. It's good to be able to talk about him." And Harry found it was. Even just saying it out loud lifted a bit of weight from him. But talking about Sirius's memories, the good ones, seemed to make him seem more alive to Harry. And so he told Tegan, who listened raptly, everything about Sirius (although omitting information about the Order), leading right up to his fall through the veil and then what Dumbledore had told him about- what was that place called?- D'ræya? And thought by the there were tears streaming down his cheeks he wasn't ashamed and he felt a lot better that he had in a long time about Sirius. It was like taking a great burden off his shoulders.
The sun had long set by the time they'd finished talking and both were starting to feel sleepy, so they made plans to meet and train early on the next morning while Harry helped Tegan collect all her things from the ground.
"Um, d'you think you could keep everything I told you to yourself?" Harry asked Tegan once she'd showed him to the door.
"Of course! I wouldn't think of saying anything."
"Thanks. And… thanks for listening," he said a bit awkwardly, but Tegan just smiled.
"Don't worry about it Harry. I hope it made you feel better." He nodded and as he turned to leave she pulled him into an unexpected hug. "Have a good night," she said, then went back into her house.
Harry merely grinned, "ah, you too," he told the closed door and turned to walk back down his street.
Early Tuesday morning found Harry dressed in his best robes and waiting eagerly for the Dursleys to leave for their day trip. The second the car was out of sight he grabbed his bag of Floo powder and hurried to the fireplace. Harry really didn't like travelling by Floo, but it was the only way for him to reach Hogwarts so he emptied the bag of powder into his hand and stepped into the fireplace. Taking a deep breath he threw the powder down saying 'Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office loudly and vanished into the green flames.
Dumbledore was seated at his desk when Harry stumbled out of the fireplace covered in ash and straightening his clothes, and he was surprised to see Remus Lupin also standing there. Grinning Harry waved happily to Lupin and then turned to Dumbledore.
"Please Harry, have a seat. You too Remus," Dumbledore said, gesturing to two comfy looking chairs, and the two complied, making themselves comfortable. Harry's pleasure at seeing Lupin and Dumbledore drained quickly away at the glum atmosphere that surrounded them both. "Harry," Dumbledore began quietly, almost hesitantly, "the reason I've called you here is because I have news… news of Sirius." Harry's heart leapt at the statement, automatically assuming that it would be good news, but the look on Dumbledore's face told him otherwise and he felt the familiar ache welling up from the bottom of his stomach. "I know you may be wondering what the archway was that Sirius fell through, and though you're not supposed to have any knowledge of it's nature I am going to tell you. You see Harry, our world is not the only dimension that exists. In fact there are many, more than any one person could even know about. There is one plane that we are particularly close with." Dumbledore, paused, frowning. "Us at Hogwarts and of the Order anyway. This place is called D'ræya, and it's a sort dream dimension." Before Harry could form a question Dumbledore held up his hand. "I won't try to explain too much, as it's a lot to wrap one's mind around. Essentially it's a parallel world to ours that's opened up when we dream. Occasionally we even visit there in our sleep. But even if we don't our dream energy called Ideya does. Now, there are creatures there, humanoid and intelligent that live off of Ideya, the same as we do with air, food and water. It's in their very cells.
"Anyway, the veil that Sirius fell through is the only known entrance to D'ræya that can be accessed while being awake-"
"So that means Sirius is there?" Harry interrupted.
Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. "He was. Harry the thing about D'ræya is it's meant for the creatures that live there, Nightmaren, or just maren, not for humans. It taxes a person, physically and mentally."
"Why?" Harry really didn't like the way this was going, but he asked anyway.
"Because maren live off of this energy, Ideya, which we humans create and expel, so in essence maren feed off of our energy. So by placing a human in the midst of their world the very life starts to be slowly sucked from them. Not by fault of the maren, of course, they're not evil creatures. Most of them anyway. But that's just how it is. We're not meant for their world."
Harry sat staring at Dumbledore trying to figure out what this meant. So Sirius had gone into another world, which means he should have been able to get back, right? He looked at Dumbledore hopefully, then at Lupin, but both averted his gaze. "You said he was there, so that means he's out now right?" There was a great surge of something Harry hadn't felt when thinking about Sirius in a long time: hope.
"Harry coming back through the veil is much more difficult than going though it is," Lupin said softly. "I don't know the whole process of it, but it's not something Sirius would have been able to accomplish, especially injured. The maren did their best to take care-" he broke off abruptly.
Harry just stared at Lupin, almost daring him to finish the sentence. But he didn't need to, Harry knew what they were telling him and it felt as if his chest had been ripped open, and he felt pain so intense that he couldn't breathe. It felt like losing Sirius over again. The brief moment at hope he had received had almost made it feel like Sirius was alive again, but then it all came crashing down again and the familiar agony of his death washed over him again. And it was final this time. Although he'd come to terms with his loss, there had always been the idea deep inside him that Sirius would be able to come back, but he'd never dwelled on it, not wanting to hurt more than he had to. But this… this new information meant that there really was no hope at all of seeing his godfather alive again, and it tore him apart inside.
Then a sudden anger welled up inside him and he exploded. "WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THIS?!" He yelled, startling the snoozing portraits that lined Dumbledore's office. For a moment neither Lupin or Dumbledore answered, but then Dumbledore spoke.
"The veil was an unknown factor to you Harry, and I know that you would have had some desire to search it for Sirius, that you had hope of being able to find him through there. It would be unfair to you to let you believe something that was just not true. And we couldn't risk you going through there."
"But... why didn't you tell me this in the beginning?"
"Again, because you would have tried to go to D'ræya," Lupin replied and stifled Harry's objections. "We know you Harry," he said sternly.
"You could have gotten him! You did! His… he is here now, you said, so you would have had to go get him."
"And we would have Harry," Dumbledore said. "But you see, the Ministry and the monarchy in D'ræya are not on good terms, so to speak. We had to wait until we could get into the Department of Mysteries without alerting the Ministry."
"WHO CARES IF THEY DON'T GET ALONG! SIRIUS COULD BE ALIVE!" Harry shouted furiously.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "No, Harry. With Voldemort loose we could not risk a feud between the two worlds when our efforts need to be here. It would be disastrous to be fighting two wars at once."
Harry fumed silently, fighting back tears and angry retorts. That made sense, but it didn't stop him from being angry. The fact that Sirius had been alive and possibly rescued burned a hole of regret and terrible frustration through him.
"I want to go home." He said suddenly, his voice trembling.
Nodding Dumbledore rose. "If you wish Harry, although the castle hospitality is open to you." Harry shook his head and Dumbledore nodded again, looking at Harry with very sad eyes. "The Floo powder's here then," he said softly, gesturing to a container next to the fireplace. Harry rose mechanically and took a handful of the powder, avoiding the sympathetic looks Lupin was giving him. "I'm sorry Harry," was all Dumbledore had a chance to say before Harry stepped into the green flames.
Back at the Durselys' everything seemed incredibly gloomy despite the sun filtering in and the cheery breeze flowing through open windows. He felt numb all over again and could hardly feel his legs as they carried him up the stairs and into his room, where he closed the doors and shut his blinds. It took him a moment to notice Hedwig sitting on his desk next to two packages and a letter. He glanced briefly at them before turning away, but was stopped by a soft hoot from Hedwig. "I don't want to open those right now," he told her, but the owl nudged the long skinny package at him, hooting again. He tried to ignore her, but her calls became louder and more persistent until, sighing in exasperation he reached for the package and tore into the paper. A wand rolled out and landed on his desk with a soft clink, and Harry felt another familiar twinge in his chest, recognizing the wand immediately. It was Sirius's. The sight of the wand was too much for Harry and great cry escaped from his throat. He could hardly breathe as sobs racked his body and the tears flowed in a seemingly unending stream from his eyes. He couldn't think properly as every thought he possessed was filled with images of Sirius, from him smiling happily at his parents wedding to the last time Harry had seen him, getting hit by Bellatrix Lestrange's curse. They all flashed through his mind at lightening speed and, try as he might, Harry couldn't block the visions from his mind any more than he could stop the terrible agony that overtook him where crumpled to the floor of his dark little room.
That was where Aunt Petunia found him later that evening when the Dursleys had returned from their trip, curled up in the carpet, having cried himself into a restless slumber. The terrible pain he was in was obvious from the grief on his face, red puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks. She felt an uncharacteristic, if very brief, wave of compassion for her nephew; pain was universal, and the degree of it Harry was obviously in softened her just very slightly. Rather than wake him rudely the way she had planned she closed the door again and went back downstairs.
Waking, only minutes after his Aunt left, the first thing Harry noticed was the crick in his neck from the way he'd been laying, which cracked quite loudly when he turned his head. He felt drained, energyless and is was all he could do to craw into his bed and pull the covers up over him. Hedwig hooted dolefully and fluttered over, landing on his pillow. Harry stroked her feathers, grateful for the comfort. "Thanks Hedwig." The owl hooted a comforting reply and nibbled at his ear. It only took a few moments for Harry to nod off again and Hedwig, though she would have loved to go out and hunt in the night, stayed by Harry, loyally watching over him.
Harry woke with a bit of a jolt from a fitful sleep (as usual) the next morning as Uncle Vernon came banging on his door. "Get up!" He yelled through the shut door, though trying not to sound too rude. "There's someone at the door for you and she won't go away till she sees you." Harry grumbled a reply and could hear Uncle Vernon's heavy steps thudding back downstairs. That'd be Tegan at the door (as if anyone else would ask for him), and Harry wasn't surprised; they were supposed to have met that morning to go train, but he was sure it was long past their scheduled time, so she would have come to find him. But, predictably, he wasn't at all interested in training today. In fact he wasn't even interested in getting out of bed or leaving his dark, depressing room. Regardless he'd have to go talk to Tegan and let her know that he wasn't going today, so he hauled himself out of bed still in his robes from yesterday that were now quite rumpled, and made his way downstairs.
The Dursleys gave him a dirty look, and Harry thought Aunt Petunia might faint from his scruffy appearance, but he pointedly ignored them and went to the from door where Tegan was waiting on the front step. She took one glance at him and immediately asked if anything was wrong.
"No, no, I'm fine," Harry lied, and fairly unconvincingly so, but he made it very obvious his tone that he wasn't interested in talking about it.
Tegan nodded in an understanding way that Harry was grateful for. "Well, I guess I'll leave you be for today then?" At Harry's nod she smiled a bit, though looking worried, and waved goodbye to him. "Come find me tomorrow if you want."
Relieved at how perceptive Tegan had been Harry went back up to his room, again ignoring any looks or queries from the Dursleys and sank back into his bed. Of course, he didn't feel like doing anything whatsoever, and felt fairly emotionally drained still, so he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling as the morning sunlight tried to fight its way in through the shut blinds. In a way he felt a bit guilt about storming out the way he did; really, he hadn't given Dumbledore much room to explain anything. But then again, Harry didn't want anymore explanation. Sirius was dead, really dead, and that's all he needed to know, and any other information was useless next to that fact. Still, there were a lot of questions that bounced around Harry's mind, that perhaps Dumbledore would have had an answer for.
Dwelling on it, Harry felt all the more guilty, and he found himself wanting to go back to Dumbledore and just talk. He'd been cooped up at the Dursleys' for only a couple of weeks, but he still felt like he would suffocate there. At least he had Tegan, and the Quidditch centre. Harry felt another twinge of guilt and realized he'd have to make it up to Tegan for being so short with her. But she had looked like she understood, and perhaps she would be someone that Harry could talk to. That thought cheered Harry up, even just slightly. He really did enjoy the time he spent with her and was beyond ecstatic to have someone from his world around over the summer. Perhaps he wouldn't even need to go back to see Dumbledore, he thought optimistically. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he didn't want to use up any of his holiday time at Hogwarts (a definite first for him); he could speak with Dumbledore when the school year started. He would however write to apologize.
Harry was jolted from his reveries by a sharp call from Hedwig, and Harry realized that she hadn't been outside at all since yesterday. His eyes misted over a bit, thinking about how she'd been there when he'd woken up, hooting her encouragement to him and stroked her feathers appreciatively. "How would you like to take a note to Dumbledore for me?" He asked her and the snowy owl ruffled her feather importantly in reply. "Thanks."
Harry scrawled a brief note to Dumbledore apologizing for the way he'd acted and requesting time to speak with him at the start of term, then gave it to Hedwig, who hooted and soared out the window when Harry opened it for her.
That resolved , Harry found some cleaner, neater (and more mundane) clothes and went into the bathroom for a long, hot shower then downstairs for some lunch (was it that time already?). The Dursleys had gone out into the yard to very loudly admire Aunt Petunia's newly blossoming garden, so he thankfully was able to prepare and eat his meal in peace. The day seemed quite a bit more brighter after his bit of reverie, even if it was plagued by a constant ache that, though Harry couldn't quite pinpoint where it originated from exactly, he recognized it easily and knew it was something could survive. He'd done it before, and knew he could do it again, perhaps even easier this time. His mind and emotions wanted badly to dwell in the grief and regret, but Harry knew that it would get him nowhere. Oddly mature for his age, he realized that it would be much easier for him to be strong and push through, rather than let the feelings rot him.
The Dursleys marched back into the house just as Harry was exciting the kitchen and was heading toward the front door.
"Where are you going? You've been disappearing all week," Uncle Vernon demanded.
"Nowhere in particular," Harry answered. "It's too nice to be cooped up inside."
It was obvious the Uncle Vernon wanted to order Harry back up to his room, to stay inside, but he knew that he couldn't, or they would have a non to pleasant visit from the Order, so he nodded, making his beefy chins jiggle a bit. "Fine, fine. Stay out of trouble, boy," he warned before storming back into the kitchen in what was unmistakable pout.
Being the middle of the afternoon it was scorching, and even just walking down to the end of the road, Harry felt himself sweating, and regretted not having gone out earlier. He didn't know if he even wanted to attempt to bear the hour long walk to the Centre that day, but stepped up onto Tegan's porch and knocked on the door. A kindly looking middle-aged lady answered and on sight of Harry her hand flew to her mouth with a little gasp.
"Goodness me! Are you who I think you are?" Harry didn't have time to make any reply for the lady had excitedly ushered him inside and yelled down the hall. "Cid! Come see who it is! Tegan, you're friend's here! - Can I get you anything Harry dear? - Cid! Bring some lemonade and cookies will you? - Please, make yourself comfortable."
While Harry was quite used to treat much of such sort, he was a bit surprised to receive it from Muggles. But Tegan had said that they were as into the Wizarding world as any magic-folk. He stayed quiet while the lady gabbered on to him, introducing herself as Fran, and hollered on to the two still unseen people in the house.
Tegan arrived in short order, rolling her eyes. "I'm sorry Harry, I ought to have warn you," she whispered, taking a seat next to him on a big flowery overstuffed couch.
"It's alright, I'm used to it. She reminds of someone I know, anyway," Harry replied quietly, and accepted the refreshments that Fran offered him.
The beginning of the afternoon went pleasantly enough with the two Muggles questioning Harry on just about everything he'd ever done, even though they already knew most of the stories almost better than Harry did. Finally they were satisfied and asked him if they'd sign a clipping from the Prophet (which turned out to be the interview he'd done the year before) before heading off to attend to whatever needed to be done.
It was a bit to late (and far too hot) to go out to the Centre so Tegan suggested they work on some of their homework together out in the yard. Harry didn't have any of his things with him, and really didn't want to go back to the Dursleys' to get them, so he opted to help Tegan with hers. She was going to be taking her OWLs this year and wanted to be as far ahead as she could, and Harry was only too happy to help her out.
So they lay, sprawled on the cool grass out back with books, parchment, scrolls, quills and ink bottles littered everywhere. "Alright, I think that should just about do it for this paper," Tegan was saying. "Although… I think maybe if I could squeeze in something on the Patronus I'd get extra marks," she said slyly, glancing over at Harry, who only too happily explained in great detail about the charm. From there they were distracted from work by talking about Harry's third year, where he'd first learned how to produce a Patronus, and the topic lead to Remus Lupin and their endeavours at the end of that year. Tegan listened eagerly as Harry told her everything he could remember about what had gone on and found that when he got to Sirius he could talk easily about his godfather, a great step from earlier that month.
"You mean that convict, Black, is your godfather?" Tegan asked leaning in close, eyes wide.
Harry shook his head. "He wasn't a convict, Tegan, remember? It was all a set up by that little worm, Pettigrow."
"Right." Tegan wrinkled her brow. "So whatever happened to him then? If he got away, then where did he go? You must keep in contact with him if he's you're godfather."
Harry fell silent for a moment, then sighing heavily he said, "He was on the run for a while, then he got into his old family house and stayed there with Buckbeak until last year." He broke off and squeezed his eyes shut briefly, willing the pain back down. "He… he was murdered at the end of last year by one of Voldemort's-" to Harry great surprise Tegan didn't flinch or cry out in the way most people did "- followers, Bellatrix Lestrange." He was met by a second of stunned silence and then:
"I'm so sorry Harry. That's terrible. If you don't want to talk…"
"No, I'm alright. It's good to be able to talk about him." And Harry found it was. Even just saying it out loud lifted a bit of weight from him. But talking about Sirius's memories, the good ones, seemed to make him seem more alive to Harry. And so he told Tegan, who listened raptly, everything about Sirius (although omitting information about the Order), leading right up to his fall through the veil and then what Dumbledore had told him about- what was that place called?- D'ræya? And thought by the there were tears streaming down his cheeks he wasn't ashamed and he felt a lot better that he had in a long time about Sirius. It was like taking a great burden off his shoulders.
The sun had long set by the time they'd finished talking and both were starting to feel sleepy, so they made plans to meet and train early on the next morning while Harry helped Tegan collect all her things from the ground.
"Um, d'you think you could keep everything I told you to yourself?" Harry asked Tegan once she'd showed him to the door.
"Of course! I wouldn't think of saying anything."
"Thanks. And… thanks for listening," he said a bit awkwardly, but Tegan just smiled.
"Don't worry about it Harry. I hope it made you feel better." He nodded and as he turned to leave she pulled him into an unexpected hug. "Have a good night," she said, then went back into her house.
Harry merely grinned, "ah, you too," he told the closed door and turned to walk back down his street.
