Oh Merlin, oh Merlin!

"Harry, Harry! What is it?"

Fuck! Can't believe I just...

"Urgh, he's gonna throw up!"

"Shut up Seamus! Harry, can you hear me? What's wrong?"

"Ron, be quiet. Harry, Harry, it's Dean. Calm down, just calm down. Breathe, you're turning blue."

Breathe... Breathe... Yeah, should probably do that... A deep gulp of air.

"Ron! Your dad... your dad's been..."

XxXxXxX

"We will need," Dumbledore murmured to Fawkes, who turned beady black eyes to him. "A warning." Fawkes disappeared in a flash of fire, and Dumbledore sat back down behind his desk, one hand idly stroking his beard. And proceeded to say nothing more, continuing to avoid Harry's desperate eyes.

"I..." Harry started after a whole ten minutes of silence, not sure what to say but wanting to break the tension in the room. Ron sat tersely next to him, white as a sheet, and McGonagall agitatedly paced the length of the office. His tail was twitching back and forth with every rhythmical click of some magical instrument on one of Dumbledore's shelves.

"Dumbledore!" a voice called, and Harry yowled loudly, all hair standing on end. Ron quirked a weak smile, but otherwise, no one reacted. Harry cursed himself for his stupid cat-ness.

"What news?" Dumbledore turned to ask the portrait behind him, which had been suddenly filled with a panting wizard. The wizard looked grim, and Harry felt himself paling. Ron tensed even further.

Harry really wished the twins were there, with him, arms wrapped around him. Maybe he could nuzzle George's neck, sitting on Fred's lap. Fuck, he wouldn't even mind if they proceeded to molest him. Anything to distract him from... from his dream.

Arthur Weasley, splayed out on the ground, covered in blood from long, piercing fangs. Harry's long, piercing fangs.

"... Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. It doesn't look good..." Harry's jaw clenched around a mournful cat wail that threatened to break free from his throat. It wouldn't do any good to look even more like a lunatic.

"...Take it Dilys will have seen him arrive..." a grave Dumbledore was saying. McGonagall was listening intently but Ron, like Harry, seemed to be drifting in and out of his own world, unable to focus on anything.

Would Fred and George be mad at him? He'd mauled their father!

They were going to hate him. Ron would hate him.

A witch popped up in another portrait; again, out of breath. Harry watched, fascinated, as her silver ringlets bounced all over the place, catching the light. He shook his head, trying to undistract himself.

"Yes, they've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore," she confirmed through wheezes, and Harry tuned out again, this time deliberately – he didn't want to hear all about the damage he'd inevitably done to Mr Weasley; good, kind Mr Weasley, who had always looked at him with so much understanding whenever Harry returned from the Dursley's, thin as a rail and refusing to eat more than a few mouthfuls.

Mr Weasley doesn't deserve this.

"Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children." Harry's head shot up, eyes meeting Dumbledore's for a split second before the other wizard jerked his gaze away as if scalded. Harry shook his head. Fuck, Fred and George!

Harry jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder heavily, and resisted the urge to claw at it. Instead, he followed the arm up to Ron, who was staring at a wall, face practically terrified. But his warm hand continued to sit on Harry's shoulder, as if Harry were the one that needed comfort.

Harry smiled and patted Ron's hand awkwardly. Ron's face split into a grin he couldn't resist at the masculine insensitivity that was so familiar between them.

"...What about Molly?"

Mrs Weasley. Harry winced at the mere thought of the kind woman who insisted on shoving food down his throat and cutting his unruly hair. She was so motherly, and he was slowly destroying her family.

"... May already know – that excellent clock of hers," Dumbledore said, with a fond chuckle, as if the thought of Arthur Weasley's clock hand pointing towards 'Mortal Peril' wasn't the most morbid image Harry could ever conjure.

Ron started breathing heavily through his nose, each exhalation making Harry ear's twitch from side to side.

Dumbledore was rummaging around in a cupboard behind Harry and Ron as Ron hyperventilated and Harry subtly panicked, unable to destroy the image of the Weasley family clock. It haunted him, laughing mockingly.

He imagined Fred and George's hands pointed to 'Mortal Peril' and shuddered fitfully, bile at the back of his throat. That was one thought he couldn't handle.

Harry jumped as an old black kettle was set on Dumbledore's desk with a heavy thump. His worn nerves were making him startle at the slightest noise.

"Portus," Dumbledore said, tapping the kettle with his wand. Harry knew the Portkey was for them – the Weasleys and him – but he wondered where it was going to take them. To the Burrow? St Mungo's?

Cries of outrage made Harry focus his attention back on Dumbledore, only to see the man standing in front of the portraits, a few of who were yelling, while one was rolling his eyes, bored.

"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter coming to stay," the man in the portrait reeled off, voice reedy, and then disappeared. Where to, Harry had no idea.

Before he knew it, the door was opening again. He gulped audibly, realising exactly who it was entering, and didn't dare turn around. Ron sighed, turning himself and forcing a smile on his face that turned into more of a grimace.

"What is it? Professor McGonagall said dad got hurt, that you saw it. Harry, what happened?" Ginny asked hurriedly, previous animosity for Harry and her brothers disappearing in the wake of such a tragedy, it seemed. Harry sunk further into his seat.

"Leave off, Ginny," Ron said, and Harry wished he hadn't. They didn't need Ginny suddenly remembering that she hated them all. Ginny just huffed and didn't say anything else, though.

Dumbledore turned to the three new arrivals and explained what happened as Harry made no move to open his mouth, taught as a bow string.

"I'm sending you to Sirius' house – far more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there." Harry wasn't looking forward to returning to Grimmauld Place. Stuck in a house with the Weasleys when he'd practically murdered Mr Weasley.

"How're we getting there?" Fred spoke up, and Harry winced at how shaken his voice was. "Floo powder?"

Harry stared at the kettle on the desk, suddenly realising it's purpose.

"Not safe, the network is under tight surveillance. You'll be using this Portkey," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the kettle. Harry wondered why Portkeys always seemed to be available only when something awful was happening. Like the night in the graveyard...

Suddenly, there was a burst of fire that made Harry startle and snarl. A single red feather dropped from the air and floated downwards, landing on Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore's expression turned even more grave.

"Fawke's warning. It's Umbridge. Minerva, head her off, tell her anything -" McGonagall was already out of the door, hurrying towards wherever Umbridge was. Harry jumped up from his chair at the same time Ron did, both wanting to get out of there before Umbridge arrived to apprehend them.

"He says he'll be delighted," a drawling voice said, and Dumbledore turned to the portraits – Phineas had reappeared. He made another snarky comment, but was interrupted by Dumbledore blatantly ignoring him in favour of gathering the students around his desk.

Harry dazedly walked forward, realising that that was that. They would soon be at Grimmauld Place, with Mr Weasley fighting for his life, and the Weasleys never talking to him again, not that he could blame them.

He put his finger on the kettle when ordered, staring off into space. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around him, and a body was pressed to him from behind. He gasped and looked up, already knowing exactly who it was and not trying to pull away.

George looked down at him, gaze serious. Then, lips pressed to his clammy forehead. Harry turned to see Fred at his side. Fred kissed his forehead again and then pulled away, smiling at him waveringly. Harry smiled back, and then looked up at George again, hopefully.

George's arm around him tightened.

"One..." Dumbledore was saying. Harry continued to gaze into George's eyes, one of Fred's hands grabbing his own and clenching around it, grip tight and nervous. George smiled down at him, shaking his head almost fondly. "Two..."

Harry suddenly jerked his head towards Dumbledore, wondering if the man would look at him, even just once.

Harry's scar burned suddenly, and his eyes widened. "Three." Dumbledore said, and his eyes lifted to meet Harry's gaze head on. There was a tug at his navel as the Portkey activated, but that was ignored in the wake of a rushing, roaring pain in his head.

Dumbledore's eyes widened as Harry stared into them, and Harry felt a strange tingling in his mind, like something was invading it. Bite. Kill, a voice hissed. He was the snake. He was the snake, ready to strike.

And then he was gone.

XxXxXxX

Harry crashed down to the ground, groaning and clutching his head. He felt someone holding him up and prying his hands away from his scar.

"What's wrong?" Fred whispered, and Harry looked up into George's face, and then Fred's. Fred was hovering at his side while George stood in front of him, holding him and looking into his face worriedly.

Harry gaped, stunned, as he remembered what had just occurred. He'd... he'd wanted to...

Harry tugged away from George suddenly, practically running to Ron, his back to the twins. He couldn't be around them. He knew they needed comfort. He'd fucking attacked their dad, of course he should be giving them comfort!

But what if he tried to attack them, too? He'd already wanted to bite Dumbledore.

Thought I'd got a hold of my cat instincts, he thought dazedly as Sirius hurried in, looking worried and pale. But Harry knew it had nothing to do with him being part cat, and everything to do with the snake in his head.

So I'm a snake-cat-human hybrid now.

Harry took a seat when everyone else did. They were situated in the living room of Grimmauld Place, and Sirius wasn't there. Where did he go?

His question was answered as Sirius bustled back in, a tray of tea and coffee floating behind him. He directed the tray to the table with his wand, and began pouring hot drinks for the exhausted students.

"I think you should really go to bed. They're ready for you, you know," Sirius said, taking in the tired slumping and weary eyes. They all shook their heads in unison.

"Not going anywhere-"

"Until we find out if dad's all right," Fred finished, and the two looked determined and stern. Harry felt his lips twitch in a smile at Sirius's rather overwhelmed, forced smile. The man nodded, obviously not agreeing with the twins, but there was no defying them when they had that expression.

"Me too," Ron mumbled, having sunk into a cushy armchair gratefully. Ginny nodded in agreement, and Sirius sighed, looking quite annoyed. He turned to Harry. Harry shrugged.

"I'm with th-" he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Sirius grabbed his shoulder and manhandled him out of the room.

"What the – Sirius!" Harry snarled as Sirius slammed the living room door shut and then dragged Harry into the kitchen. Sirius then immediately grabbed his right hand and brought it up to eye level. Harry paled.

"Fucking bitch," Sirius mumbled, grip tightening on Harry's hand. Harry winced – how much did Sirius know?

"Who?" he asked innocently – it would do no good to blurt out everything and then have it turn out Sirius was talking about something completely unrelated. Sirius sighed and dropped his hand, which had been rapidly loosing all circulation due to the animagus' tight grip.

"Don't play dumb with me. Umbridge! Who else?" Sirius snapped, stalking over to one of the chairs surrounding the table and collapsing onto it. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Fred and George," he mumbled, suddenly realising exactly how Sirius had discovered his not-very-well-kept secret. He was going to kill those twins! Right after they started talking to him again... Although by tonight's actions, maybe they were.

"Can't believe what she did!" Sirius was ranting obliviously. "When your friends told me... I was ready to kill her, you know? But those crafty twins of yours had a much better plan, really..."

Harry gaped at the back of Sirius' head for a moment, a feeling of dread filling him as he realised that the twins had done something. Of course! It all made sense! Umbridge's avoidance of him, the lack of detentions and her unexplained surrender in the Quidditch matter...

"Yeah... that plan of theirs. Really, really good," Harry said, wondering if he could tactfully egg Sirius on to spill the beans. He would have to pull out all of his cunning side!

"Good? Bloody brilliant!" Sirius said excitedly, sounding exactly like Ron for a moment. "They're worse than us Marauders, those two. What they did with the quill..."

Harry made a 'hmm'ing sort of sound, eyes narrowed suspiciously. He hoped Sirius didn't turn around and see his tightened expression. What had they done with the quill?

"And what they got her to write on the back of her hand... pure genius. Bet she'll never mess with them again," Sirius continued, finally turning around to Harry, oblivious to his incredulous expression as the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fit together. "And you. She'll never mess with you again, either. They're... Harry, I didn't honestly know what to expect when you began this..." Sirius waved a hand, trying to express himself.

"Relationship?" Harry asked a bit stiffly, more out of sheer anger at the twins then annoyance at Sirius not believing their relationship to be real. Sirius grinned sheepishly.

"That's the word. I thought they'd break your heart – not exactly serious, those twins. But what they've done for you... they protect you so much, something I've never been able to achieve." Sirius' expression turned brooding, voice layered with guilt. Harry grimaced, wanting to say something before moody Sirius came back and replaced the sudden excitement the man had been hit with.

"You have protected me, Sirius. Pettigrew might've killed me if you hadn't broken out of Azkaban just for me," Harry said sincerely. Sirius flashed him a small smile, guilt seeming to ebb slightly.

"But I can't be there for you, Harry. I'm stuck in this horror of a home, forced to secretly visit you at Hogsmeade once in a while and write you letters."

"Which you so subtly deliver with bright pink flamingo's," Harry couldn't help but add dryly. Sirius, far from looking abashed, looked proud.

"Dumbledore sent me on a mission to some exotic place, I couldn't resist," he explained. Harry rolled his eyes – Sirius had never heard of restraint.

"But... honestly, Harry? I'm glad Fred and George are there to look out for you every day," he said, more serious. Harry looked down at the floor, feeling awkward and hoping Sirius didn't say anything else.

Sirius seemed to feel the same way, and cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Right, well, let's get back, shall we?" Sirius said, standing up abruptly.

"Wait-" Harry started, mind flashing to Dumbledore's office, where he'd nearly killed the man who had been like a grandfather to him. Sirius looked back at him expectantly.

But I can't be there for you, Sirius's words echoed through his head. Had he been putting a burden on Sirius, expecting him to be the perfect godfather and rescue him from the Dursleys? Had he been the one to put those dark circles under his eyes, the guilty, haunted look in his eyes because Harry expected too damn much of one man?

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said, instead of what he wanted to say. Instead of explaining his problems, his fear that he might suddenly feel the need to hurt his friends like he had Dumbledore. Like he had Mr Weasley.

Sirius grinned. "No problem, kiddo."

XxXxXxXx

Originally, I was going to have Harry shake off the burden of idiot!Harry and actually talk to Sirius about his snake problem. Of course, that would lessen Harry angst, and I could never do that to you...

;;Runs away from pitchfork-adorned audience;; It's all part of the plan!

Also, the twins did maybe overreact a bit in the last chapter, but it was sort of a knee-jerk reaction with them not having time to really think about it. In this chapter, they can't stay mad at Harry for long. Eventually, they'll talk about the incident :P

Hope you enjoyed it and, if you have time, review! I love to hear your opinions (Sorry for the very late replies to reviews for the last chapter).