When Harry woke up from his impromptu nap the next evening, he had a weird, ominous feeling. Of course, he never felt exactly like sunshine and daisies, but as he sat up and wormed his way out of the nest of sheets he had made on the floor under the window, there was a sickening ache in his stomach that put him on edge. He kicked the sheets aside, jammed his new glasses onto his nose and hurried to the cot.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Sirius lying there peacefully. The baby had only woken once during the night, but had drifted off again after Harry fed him. Ginny was starting to joke that there was no point in her staying, anymore, with Harry there to look after him, but secretly Harry hoped she would stay. He couldn't say why, but he felt better when she was around. She was obviously hurt that he didn't remember her from his life before, but he was determined on his mission to make new memories, and she was slowly filling in the gaps for him. Some of it was quite embarrassing. She had been annoyed at his apparently grossed-out expression when she had started to describe their first kiss.

"Well you asked," she muttered.

"Sorry," he said quickly. Things in the house had gotten considerably less tense since they had come to speaking terms, and he didn't want to offend her. The thing was, he couldn't remember ever kissing anyone, and the look was one more of confusion than disgust. "Were you… I mean, was that my only first kiss, d'you know?"

Her eyes widened. "You don't remember Cho either, then?" she asked, the question laced with its own special kind of poisonous barbs, he was sure. He wondered if the old Harry would have fallen into that trap, but fortunately, he didn't have to.

"Who?" he asked, scratching his head for dramatic effect.

A half-smile crossed her lips as she turned away. "Oh," she said, waving a hand absent-mindedly in the air. "No one…"

Sometimes she was like a total stranger to him. Her clever, nimble fingers as she tied on Sirius' nappy, the ringing timbre of her voice. Every now and then she would turn a certain way, or laugh at some offhand remark, and something like memory, but not quite, would spark deep inside him, like a kind of deja vu. But other than that, other than the all-too-brief vision of a younger girl with copper-red hair down to her waist, smiling in the sunlight… there was nothing. He had to do his best not to remind her of it though, because he knew it made her sad.

He avoided Lupin too, for all the man kept attempting conversation. He thought Lupin sensed that Harry's memories of him were sketchy at best, and kept trying to talk about the old days when he had been a Professor at Hogwarts. Harry did not have the heart to admit that all he remembered of that year were the Dementors, and Sirius. All of his memories of Sirius were as clear as they ever were. The painful memories stood out amongst the faded ones like trees amongst the mast.

His stomach growled as he straightened up from the cot. He must have slept right through dinner. He didn't want to wake the baby, so he padded softly out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and made his way downstairs for some food. No one else was around. He tended to get to sleep late and wake earlier than the others, even Lupin, who no one could call a layabout, and there was no set time for meals since Molly had gone back to the Burrow, so they all tended to fend for themselves. Harry didn't usually cook, though. He didn't quite trust himself.

Yawning, he poured cereal into a bowl and drowned it in milk before sitting at the table. Ginny made fun of him for how much milk he put on his cereal. He couldn't remember if he had always done it, but he hadn't exactly had the luxury of either milk or cereal for four years, and he was damned if he was going to stint on it now.

There was a knock on the door. Harry froze, waiting, but no one moved in the house. Carefully he got up and went to the hall, looking up to the magical mirror in the corner of the doorway. It was enchanted to reveal any magical forms of disguise, although it didn't work on Metamorphmagi, or, they had evidently discovered through vigorous testing, strong batches of Polyjuice Potion.

It was Ron on the other side of the door, his tall lanky outline lit by the street lamps. Harry opened it. "Hey Ron."

"Hi Harry," Ron said, looking surprised at who had opened the door. "I need to see Lupin."

"Right." Harry couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. Ron's friendship, he thought, was the most valuable thing he had gained since he had got back. It was all too easy to be jealous of it. He stood to one side. Ron gave him a look.

"You're meant to ask me a security question," he said patiently. "And Lupin usually does a charm."

Harry cursed himself. Lupin had explained that since Harry had been taken, they had disabled the Fidelius charm, since if Harry was dead the Order no longer had a right to the house. Dumbledore himself had spent days putting protection spells on Number Twelve to protect it even from the Blacks, which had included the Lestranges but now really meant just Narcissa Malfoy. Since Harry wasn't dead, the whole thing was triply confused, but essentially no one should be able to get into the house unless they were invited. Unfortunately this allowed for a certain amount of human error. "Er…" Harry mumbled, trying to think of something to ask Ron. "What sort of car did your dad use to have… the one we drove to school that time?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "A Ford Anglia - honestly, you remember that, but not your first kiss. And yes, Ginny told me about that." He came into the house, and put on the serious expression he seemed to wear a lot these days. Harry found it quite unfamiliar, but he wasn't sure if that was his fault, or if Ron had always just been more cheerful, before. "Lupin?"

"In his room," Harry guessed. "Already asleep, maybe."

Ron hurried up the stairs, taking some of them two at a time. After a brief moment of hesitation, Harry followed him, at a more measured pace that didn't make him want to collapse. He seemed to have reached a plateau of recovery where he could function normally as long as he didn't exert himself too much. He wondered privately if he was going to be this weak for the rest of his life, but he was too afraid to ask whenever Neville came to check on him.

Ron knocked on Lupin's door and went in, closing it behind him. Harry was left staring at the closed door until another door opened, and a head poked out. Harry wasn't sure what to make of Lupin's young ward. William was a quiet boy, and he seemed somehow older than his years, much like Lupin himself must have been as a child, Harry supposed. He could see why he and Beth were friends, and he was glad. By all accounts William had saved the girl's life on the island. And the three children had got to Sirius before any Death Eaters could, and for that Harry knew he was indebted to all three of them forever. "Is something happening?" William asked nervously, but as well-spoken as ever.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. Nothing to do with us, apparently. Want some late supper?"

William nodded, and followed Harry back to the kitchen where Harry threw away his soggy cereal and started again. There was no shortage of it - Molly had stocked them up before she left. He wondered if he should try and make small talk, but decided against it. William surely didn't need it, and he didn't think he'd be much good at it in any case, so they sat and ate in silence.

Ron and Lupin came down about ten minutes later. Lupin was fully dressed, in robes much like Ron's, tight enough to not get in the way, but loose enough to allow movement - combat robes. "You two going somewhere?" Harry asked, frowning. It was nearly ten o'clock at night.

"We've got a lead on Zabini and some other prisoners," Ron explained shortly. "We're going after them before You-Know-Who can have them moved to another island."

Harry felt his heart sink slightly, and wondered why. Of course they wouldn't ask him to come. That would be ridiculous. Even Harry was pretty sure he had fought his last battle. But still, the idea of his friends risking their lives without him made him feel oddly empty. "Who's we?" he asked.

"What's left of the MLE - including trainees - and most of the Order," Lupin replied, putting on his cloak for all it was June. "I'm sorry to leave you both, but Ginny will be here."

Harry was about to snap that he didn't need a babysitter, until he remembered William sitting beside him. He kept forgetting the boy was only fourteen, and it wasn't as if Harry himself was a suitable guardian. "Right," he agreed, reluctantly. William only nodded. Harry thought he looked a bit annoyed, behind his constant polite expression.

"Don't open the door to anyone, unless it's Molly," Lupin went on.

"And check that it's her, remember," Ron prompted, for all he made fun of what he called 'random trivia security'.

"Yeah, all right," Harry sighed. He knew he should be grateful that they trusted him enough to leave him more-or-less in charge, but somehow that didn't make him feel any better. He still couldn't quite shake the ominous feeling that something just wasn't quite right.

Ron gave him a searching look, but then appeared to give up. "Bye then," he said, to both Harry and William. "Take care of yourselves."

He and Lupin turned to leave, but Harry called out before he could stop himself. "Ron…"

"Yeah?" Ron looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Um…" he faltered. "Er, good luck. I hope you find Zabini. It's all Draco can think about. And I…" he trailed off.

Ron nodded, grim-faced. "Thanks. We'll do our best."

"And be careful," Harry added quickly, with great effort. That was really what he had wanted to say in the first place, but for some reason the words struggled on their way from his brain to his mouth. As though if he said them he might be inviting something worse than whatever his imagination could come up with.

Ron rolled his eyes, a little of his old self finally rearing its head. "Yes mother. We'll see you later."

They left; Lupin could be heard doing a final check on the security wards before the door closed behind them. Harry and William finished their inappropriately-timed cereal. Just as Harry put down his spoon, Sirius woke up, and William offered to put the dishes away. Harry nodded gratefully and hurried up the stairs.

Ginny was already in Sirius' room, changing him. The cries had diminished to a barely audible whimper. "Hey," Ginny said as he came in, the ward on the door alerting her to his presence.

"Hi," he said, sheepishly. "I didn't mean to be out for so long… Ron came, and then he and Lupin left, and dinner took longer than I…"

"Harry, it's okay. He really doesn't need twenty-four-seven supervision, you know." She finished tying the baby's nappy and picked him up, rocking him side to side a little until the crying stopped entirely.

"Draco says he does," Harry muttered.

"Harry, no one can get in here, no matter what Malfoy says," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "What did Ron want, then?"

"You don't know?"

She shook her head. He went over to what passed for his own bed, the pile of sheets by the window, and began to fold them as he explained what Ron had said. Ginny's expression grew more and more anxious. "Oh hell," she sighed. "It's only been three months since their last mad venture. I dunno what we'd do if one of them got… I mean especially if it was Ron… Mum couldn't handle it."

What about you? Harry wanted to ask, but didn't. He didn't know her well enough to take such liberties yet.

Ginny sighed. "I hope they're all right," she mumbled. "Do you know if Hermione went?"

Harry shrugged. "Lupin said most of the Order," he replied.

"Probably then, since it's school holidays. There aren't really that many of them."

Harry nodded. The Order had grown a little from what he remembered, but not by much. It seemed as though they would need any able-bodied fighter they could get. "Do you not fight?" the question came out before he could stop it.

She glared at him. "You would ask that."

"Well, I just thought… because of your brothers, and…" he shrugged lamely.

"I joined the Order to take care of your son, Harry. You know that." She cuddled Sirius to her face for a moment, tickling his baby-soft cheeks with the ends of her hair and making him giggle.

"Yeah, I know. Never mind." He finished folding the sheets and laid them over the arm of the chair by the cot.

Ginny, apparently determined to be annoyed at him whatever he did, shook her head. "Why are you suddenly so obsessively neat? You were always so messy, before."

Harry frowned. "Was I?" All that came to mind was Aunt Petunia telling him to tidy his things - what things she was talking about, he had no idea. He remembered cleaning the house a lot, but if he'd ever had his own room, that was a another blank space in his memory.

Ginny stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I still have trouble believing you're really you sometimes, you know."

Harry looked down at the pile of folded sheets. "Yeah, me too," he said, so low he thought she might not have heard him.

She made a huffing sound. "Quiet in here today," she said, looking around. "Where's your ghost friend?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Invisible somewhere, maybe."

Ginny shuddered and made a face. "I wish he wouldn't do that. How'm I meant to know where he is? He could be watching me in the shower."

Harry laughed.

Then his scar seemed to split open down his forehead, and something exploded, sending him flying. He landed with a thud amid a roar of noise, and falling debris, and fire. And somewhere, his son was screaming.

Making some progress with this story finally. Hoping to get it all wrapped up by Christmas. Please review; your support is so, so appreciated.