A/N: Thanks for all of your patience and continued support. The last few weeks have been pretty busy, but your reviews have motivated me to get in gear and get more chapters out. so thanks again, and I hope you guys enjoy1
Severus's sitting room was almost unbearably tense. Severus himself sat stiff-backed in his favorite chair, his long fingers drumming the arm impatiently. Across from him sat Sirius Black, looking nearly civilized courtesy of a recent haircut and shave. He was holding himself very still, as though he were afraid to move. And Harry was on the loveseat, his sneakered feet dangling, unusually quiet and shy. An untouched tray of tea and biscuits adorned the side table. The only sound in the room was the sound of the clock on the mantle ticking.
Harry shifted, glancing uncomfortably at his guardian and the man they said was his godfather. They both looked as though they would rather be anywhere but where they currently were.
Tick.
Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly, and Severus shot him a scathing glare.
Tock.
Severus sighed deeply, internally bitterly cursing James Potter his choice of friends.
Tick.
Harry coughed. Sirius jumped, and then smiled sheepishly.
Tock.
Suddenly the clock in the hallway chimed ten, and everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief.
"Well," Sirius said, nearly leaping to his feet. "Harry."
Harry peered at him from under his black fringe of hair.
"I should be going. Er, same time next time, then?"
"We will look forward to it with abundant glee," Severus said drily.
Sirius looked as though he wanted to retort, but instead merely left, head high. Severus smirked.
Harry slumped down in the loveseat, suddenly feeling exhausted.
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The rest of the summer passed uneventfully, with several more strange, stilted supervised visits with Sirius, each one more awkward than the last. Harry spent time with all of his friends, completed his summer homework, and continued his training with Raiknok. Soon, first day of term had arrived and Harry found himself once again back in Hogwart's halls as a second year student.
Happy to be back, Harry and Draco were chattering about their summers as they walked into their first period class of their second year, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Before they had even made it two steps into the classroom, however, Harry found himself roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged to the front of the room.
"Harry Potter!" A jovial voice boomed, and Harry stared wide-eyed at the pretty man grasping him.
"An honor to meet you, though surely not such an honor as it is for you to meet me, your new Defense professor and three-time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile, Gilderoy Lockhart!"
"Um, sir…" Harry said, trying futilely to pull his arm from the petite man's surprisingly iron grip.
"Yes, Harry, my boy, I would be delighted to sign an autograph for you!" Professor Lockhart said in an overly loud voice, producing a feathered quill with the hand not hold Harry to his side.
"Please…" Harry whispered, his heart rate accelerating. His breath caught in his throat, blocking the tears that threatened to fall.
"Oh, do come on, my boy! At least smile! I know yours isn't as dazzling as mine, but this will be front page tomorrow, you see if it isn't!"
"No…"Harry whispered, blurry and vague memories of being held down and loud booming voices filling his head. His glasses fell off his face crookedly and he felt very dizzy and afraid. His heart was racing so fast it felt as though it was going to tear through his chest. Tears began to fall down his face as he struggled fiercely to get his arm free.
Suddenly, his arm was released and he fell backwards, frantically scrambling back against the wall, trembling.
Draco Malfoy rubbed the hand he had just used to punch his new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in the face and stared around the room imperiously. "Well, go on!" he snapped irritably. "Somebody go fetch Professor Snape!"
Harry whimpered, drawing his knees up to his chin and sobbing silently as the rest of the class waited with bated breath. Professor Lockhart pulled himself up blearily, holding his bleeding nose in horror.
"My face!" he cried. "You! You will pay for this!"
Draco glared back, unfazed.
"What the devil is going on here?" a familiar voice suddenly hissed, and everyone in the room stepped back as Severus Snape billowed impressively into the room. His dark eyes drifted over Draco's defiant stance and Lockhart's battered face before coming to a rest on his ward curled up in a ball under the blackboard.
"Professor Lockhart grabbed Harry, sir," Draco said, grey eyes burning holes in the aforementioned professor. "He wouldn't let Harry go and Harry had a panic attack."
"I was merely introducing myself to the boy!" Lockhart snapped. "How was I to know he had a weak constitution?"
"Enough!" Severus roared. "Mr. Malfoy, escort Mr. Potter to the infirmary."
Draco nodded curtly, gently helping Harry up. Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, suddenly incredibly embarrassed that his classmates all witnessed his tears. He followed his friend silently out of the classroom, eyes glued to the floor. Just before they turned the corner, Severus called out to them.
"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco turned around.
"60 points to Slytherin."
Draco smirked, pulling Harry away. Severus rounded on Lockhart, eyes flashing.
"You," he growled, his voice sharpened steel. The slim fair-haired professor took a fearful step away from the bristling Potions Master. "If you ever lay a hand on my ward again, you will live to regret it."
He turned and swept out of the classroom, leaving silent students and a trembling professor behind.
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"What a way to start our first day back," Draco said as he guided Harry up the staircase toward the infirmary.
Harry remained silent.
"Hey, don't feel bad. That bloke's a nutter," Draco said, giving his friend's shoulder a little nudge. "And pretty like a woman, too. Ugh."
Harry cast a small smile as he surveyed his friend's delicate features. Draco didn't notice.
Suddenly, something wet hit Harry square in the face. Sputtering, he looked up toward the ceiling, where Peeves the poltergeist was floating, holding water balloons.
"Bollocks," Draco swore, glaring at the poltergeist.
"Ooooh wittle secondies!" Peeves chortled gleefully, juggling the balloons. "Shall we see how fast the wittle ones can run?"
He hoisted his missile up, but before he could launch it another ghost drifted through the stone wall of the corridor. Silvery blood dripped from ghostly wounds, chains clanking slightly. Peeves' eyes widened as he hastily dropped the balloon.
"Oh, your Baroness," he said, bowing. The Bloody Baron merely glared at the poltergeist, who gulped audibly and fled, disappearing through the ceiling.
"Wicked," Draco breathed.
Harry stared as the Bloody Baron drifted past him. Entranced, he reached out a hand and let is fall through the silver mist of the specter. The world suddenly went dark and cold around him.
"Do not disobey me, Helena!" a handsome, dark haired young man growled, visibly trying to reign in his temper.
"What care you?" a pretty young witch retorted, her long silvery hair tossed defiantly over her pale shoulder.
"I loved you! I still do! That child is ours! She is proof of our love!"
"The child is a muggle!"
The dark haired man's eyes flashed with temper. "Tell me what you did with her."
The witch laughed, her pretty face mocking. "You wouldn't know what to do with a muggle child. Just let it be!"
"Retrieve Lydia and return to Hogwarts with me. Helena, your mother is worried…"
"Ha!" cried Helen in disdain. "She is worried that I will be cleverer and wiser than her with this diadem!"
"Helena…"
"I never loved you, do you know that? That night was a mistake. A moment of fancy when we were too far into our cups."
The dark haired man paled, as though hit with staggering pain. "But…"
"You're a fool. Just like my mother."
Ugly rage filled the young man's once handsome face as he lunged at the witch, eyes wild. His hand grappled with something in his tunic, and there was a glint of silver as a dagger was pulled forth. The girl gasped, struggling fiercely. Their two bodies were intertwined, a blur, a parody of a lover's embrace.
And then the girl fell, dropping the ground, blood spilling from her chest. The dark haired man stared in horror at the stained dagger in his hands.
"NOOOO!" he howled in rage, terror, and anguish, dropping to his knees. "NOOO! Helena! I am so sorry! My love, please wake up! HELENA!"
The witch gave no response as her chest rose and then fell with her last breath.
The man grabbed the dagger in both hands, turning it toward himself. With a last pain-filled cry, he plunged it into his heart.
Harry staggered backwards, bathed in a freezing sweat. He and the Bloody Baron stared at each other in mutual shock before the Baron hastily faded away. Harry breathed heavily, ignoring Draco's concerned voice.
What had just happened?
