It felt impossible that just a few days ago Harry had been at school, and that everything had been perfectly normal. They had been counting down the days until Christmas break, Harry for the first time ever looking forward to not spending it at Hogwarts. The meeting with Scrimgeour and Kingsley had receded out of mind once the evening's DA meeting started, their last class of the year, and he and Cho had kissed...but that night everything changed.

The horrible nightmare he'd experienced was very real - Harry knew it was the moment he awoke twisted in the bedsheets. It was real because he had seen it, he was there...Mr Weasley laying on the floor, covered in blood as Harry lunged at him again and again, attacking. Days later the memory of seeing that still made him feel ill.

Just like over the summer they were all holed up at Grimmauld Place again, the Weasleys using Headquarters as a base so they could be close to St Mungos. Mr Weasley was going to make a full recovery from Nagini's attack, of that the Healers were confident, but he wouldn't be released until they could make the bleeding stop. The news had come as a great relief to them all, even though the good news was noticeably dampened by the notion that Harry had something to do with what happened - even if it was beyond his control.

For days now Harry had been stewing over it, wrapped up in the misery of the belief that he had somehow been involved. He was scared to sleep, afraid of what he would do next, or what he would see. Looking back on the day that Mr Weasley was attached he vividly remembered seeing Voldemort and Nagini. During Divination he had nodded off, just for a few moments, and he saw them together. At the time he had brushed it off as a stupid day dream. After all, Trelawney had been talking about snakes and rebirth, and the topic had been bothering him. But it was more than a day dream, he knew that now...it had been a warning.

Voldemort stroked Nagini tenderly, whispering to her in Parsletongue...Tonight.

The visions and strange feelings had only escalated that night, and in the immediate aftermath he had told Sirius about what he felt inside him in Dumbledore's office. But his godfather's response had left him wanting. He had been completely dismissive, insisting that Harry only needed to get some sleep and everything would be fine. It had taken days for him to feel confident that Voldemort hadn't possessed him, Ginny had made that clear enough, but he wasn't done prying Sirius for information.

It wasn't unreasonable that he expect to know why this had happened, and to know the people around him were safe - that he wasn't a threat to them. What had happened lingered in the forefront of his mind, vivid images he could not rid himself of - Mr Weasley's frightened face, the blood that spilled everywhere…the sight of him slumped over in that dark corridor.

Determined to talk about it properly Harry had set about cornering Sirius. His habits had not changed in the months that had passed since his return to Hogwarts, and Sirius could still be found to have retreated upstairs when he needed peace and quiet. Buckbeak was gone now, having been rechristened Witherwings and returned to Hagrid. Sirius had seemed pleased by the change, having often said it was cruel of them to keep Buckbeak here, but no doubt he was miserable from missing him, particularly when there was no one else around at Headquarters but Kreacher.

The first Saturday after Mr Weasley's attack was when Harry sought Sirius out, tracking him down to the old master bedroom upstairs. It was completely cleared out now, the straw cleaned up from the old timber floors, the scratched furniture discarded and the smell of feathers and manure completely dissipated. It seemed Sirius had gone a few steps further than simply cleaning up, having removed all the serpent light fittings before tearing down the wallpaper. The walls and floor were left completely bare now, the room echoing as Harry crossed it to reach the small terrace that overlooked the city skyline. It was there he knew he would find Sirius.

'Harry, what are you doing up here?' Sirius said in alarm, seeing he was wearing only a thin jumper. 'You'll freeze to death. Go back inside.'

Standing his ground, Harry shook his head. 'I need to know what's going on. With Voldemort and me.'

Sirius looked exasperated with him. 'I told you not to worry,' he implored. 'Everything is going to be fine. Go back inside.'

Determined to get what he needed Harry refused point blank, and he didn't suppress a shiver of cold that struck him. Seeing that his hand was being forced Sirius finally relented, and he ushered Harry inside. In the privacy of the master bedroom they began to talk, a little more freely than they had in the pantry the morning after Mr Weasley's attack.

'Last summer you told me Dumbledore was worried about what Voldemort might do if he knew I was close to him. Don't you think Voldemort might be…inside me?'

'What happened to Arthur was not your fault,' Sirius said vehemently.

'But I felt him! That night in Dumbledore's office, I felt him Sirius.'

'We don't know that's what happened.'

Harry shook his head, his heart sinking lower and lower. 'I do know,' he said with certainty. 'I told you…it was like I wanted to hurt Dumbledore. That's not me - it's got to be him! But Ginny said if he was possessing me, I wouldn't remember it…so what's he doing?'

Sirius paused, looking at a loss - and this was not at all comforting. 'I don't know, Harry. But what happened to Arthur was not your fault. You didn't do that. Do you understand that, Harry?'

'B-but I could have,' he insisted, unable to forget the powerful hatred that had surged within him the night he looked Dumbledore in the eye. 'You're not listening. I wanted to hurt Dumbledore. What if I actually did?'

'Harry, y-'

'What if I can't stop myself, because Voldemort's doing something to me!'

'Harry, stop!' Sirius said abruptly, seizing him by the shoulders to make him listen. 'You're panicking. You're not thinking straight. What happened to Arthur had nothing to do with you. You saved his life by seeing it.'

Looking away Harry brushed Sirius's hands off his shoulders, not at all comforted or reassured by his words. He still wasn't listening, he still didn't comprehend that Harry had wanted to do something terrible…he didn't get it that Voldemort was somehow inside him.

'Then, why isn't this a good thing?' he questioned boldly. 'If I saved Mr Weasley's life, then this was a good thing.'

'No, Harry…this was not a good thing,' Sirius said wearily, leaning against the bare wall with his arms folded across his chest. 'You saw this from the snake's perspective.'

There it was...confirmation of something else that had occurred to him already. 'It wasn't Voldemort in me. It was me in Voldemort.'

'Yes. At least, that's what Dumbledore thinks.'

'But if…if I saw what he was doing, this has to be a good thing,' he questioned, not understanding why it wasn't. 'If I did it again, I could spy on him.'

Alarmed by the eagerness in Harry's tone Sirius looked up, unfolding his arms. 'No, Harry. If you're slipping into Voldemort's mind that's a very bad thing. He could think you're doing it intentionally. He could retaliate.'

'But it saved Mr Weasley.'

'And endangered you,' Sirius argued vehemently. 'Harry, don't ever question that the Order members sign up for this knowing that we may give our lives. Specifically that we may give our lives to protect you from Voldemort.'

'I didn't ask anyone to do that.'

'Dumbledore asked us to, and we all agreed. Even Arthur and Molly. So don't get it in your head that this connection with Voldemort is a way for you to keep an eye on things for the Order, because it's not. It's dangerous.'

Still unhappy about it, Harry managed to nod his head in agreement. 'So, what do we do about it? I-if I'm getting into Voldemort's head and he's getting into mine, what do we do?'

'I don't know.'

'Should I even be here?' he asked, pleading for reassurance. 'Maybe I should go somewhere else…'

'You're safest here.'

'What about everyone else?'

Sirius wasn't having it. 'Dumbledore knows what he's doing,' he insisted, taking a deep breath before he continued. 'There's a reason Hermione came here instead of going straight to her parents, and there's a reason the Weasley's are here beyond convenience. They're here for you, but none of us would have them here if it wasn't safe. Can you at least trust that?'

Taken aback by this, Harry nodded slowly. 'Yes. What am I supposed to do now?'

'I don't know,' Sirius admitted again, sounding defeated. 'But what I do know, is that you and your safety is Dumbledore's only priority. Mine too,' he added. 'And if Dumbledore says you're safe here, that's good enough for me.'

These assurances were of only small comfort. He trusted Dumbledore…but was blindly trusting someone enough?

'Do you think it could happen again?'

To his relief, Sirius didn't just tell him what he wanted to hear. 'If Voldemort knows then I don't think he'd let you into his head again. But he might try to get into yours.'

It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he was grateful for Sirius's honesty. 'Maybe I shouldn't be sharing a room with Ron. What if Voldemort made me do something to him?'

'Dumbledore says everyone is safe here,' Sirius implored yet again. 'You don't need to be scared, Harry. Dumbledore is going to take care of this.'

Not being scared was easier said than done, but at least this time Sirius hadn't brushed him off completely. Acknowledging how scared Harry was of something happening a second time Sirius had taken to spending the nights in Harry and Ron's room, transformed into Padfoot and curling up on the floor beside Harry's bed. He'd often claimed to sleep better as a dog, and didn't seem bothered by the arrangement - and to Harry it came as a relief.

The idea of sleeping in the same room as his best friend when Voldemort could possibly make him do something…it didn't make it any easier to fall asleep at night. It took a couple of days for Harry to start feeling okay again, to get over the temptation to make a run for it in order to protect the other occupants of Grimmauld Place.

Hermione stayed for a few days before joining her parents in France, having not seen them in months, while Harry and the Weasleys spent a very festive Christmas between Grimmauld Place and St Mungos. They visited Mr Weasley frequently and spent New Years Eve there, though they had been forced to return to Grimmauld Place before the night wore on too late and the streets became crowded with Muggle party-goers.

As Christmas turned into January and their return to Hogwarts drew near Harry could see Sirius becoming moody and sullen, and he didn't blame him. For the first time ever Harry did not want to go back to Hogwarts. He didn't want to leave Sirius here with only Kreacher for company, nor did he want to return to school and live under Umbridge's tyranny. If he didn't have the DA to keep him going he would have cracked, would have begged Sirius to let him leave school and stay at Grimmauld Place with him. Surely some wizards were homeschooled by their parents?

As the days passed no word came from Dumbledore, at least none that reached Harry's ears. If there was a plan or something in mind to keep him from slipping into Voldemort's head again it would be news to Harry. Whatever the plan was, he had reluctantly accepted that he would be the last to know anyway.

The last Friday before they departed Grimmauld Place came too quickly, and seemed to coincide with an Order meeting that saw Harry and the others banished upstairs for the remainder of the afternoon. Nothing had changed from the previous summer and every attempt to eavesdrop on was made, including Ginny who valiantly ate a Nosebleed Nougat and headed downstairs as people were arriving. But her efforts were in vain, for Mrs Weasley had suspected there would be games afoot and headed her off before she could reach the landing.

'Shame Hermione's not here anymore,' Ginny moaned, laying back on the couch as she pinched her bloody nose. 'Mum would have believed her in a heart beat.'

When the Order meeting concluded in the early evening they were finally allowed downstairs, pleasantly surprised to find a number had stayed back for dinner. Mr Weasley would be released from St Mungos the following morning, so many of the Order were spending the night at Grimmauld Place before escorting him back.

Seeing an opportunity to do something that had been on his mind for a while, Harry jumped on it. Ignoring the place at the table Ron had set for him, Harry took his plate and subtly moved around to the other side, making sure he would sit by Kingsley and corner him at the end of the table. For two weeks now he had been mulling over something in his head, something completely unrelated to what had happened to Mr Weasley. But recently he had lost enthusiasm for the idea, it all seemed trivial and less important now…but still he jumped at the chance to enquire.

Dinner that night was a loud and raucous affair, everyone in good spirits about Mr Weasley's good health and impending discharge. Aside from Sirius who was upstairs, sulking probably, everyone else was talking and laughing at great length, allowing Harry to hold a much quieter, more private conversation with Kingsley.

'I've been meaning to ask you something,' Harry murmured, wondering how to phrase this. Cornering Kingsley had been an impromptu idea, he hadn't thought this far ahead. 'Something you might not like.'

Having not missed a thing, Kingsley was already braced for Harry to bring something to his attention. 'Go on,' he prompted softly. A moment later he laughed merrily at a joke George made, hiding his quiet conversation with Harry.

'The transcript of the statement I made last August, to Madam Bones. I'm allowed a copy of that, aren't I?'

'You just have to write in a request for it.'

'Say I did,' Harry began very slowly. 'Would it hurt things if that transcript happened to…' He trailed off, hoping Kingsley would catch on, that he wouldn't make him say the words. 'If it happened to get out?'

Kingsley didn't respond at first, his fork poised in mid-air as he looked across the table, pretending to listen to a story Tonks was telling at great length. 'You want to make your statement even more public?'

'I've thought about it.'

Kingsley put down his fork now, brow furrowed as he took a drink of Butterbeer. He seemed to share a brief glance with Lupin at the other end of the table, but nothing more than a glance. 'To what end, Harry?' he questioned, looking back to him now. 'What would you hope to achieve?'

Harry began to regret bringing this up at all, more and more certain that it was indeed a trivial pursuit, even vain. But he'd opened the door now. 'Fudge gets to walk around saying whatever the hell he likes. I just wonder why I have to sit down and shut up.'

Kingsley murmured something under his breath, it sounded like agreement. But unspoken words lingered between them, and a few moments later he elaborated. 'There's a lot to be said about a calculated silence. Why engage the media in a fight you cannot win?'

'I'm the one who has to live with my silence,' he stated, thinking about how much he dreaded his return to Hogwarts. 'I just need to know if it would hurt things for the Aurors.'

'You're playing with fiendfyre,' Kingsley warned. 'Doing something like this could blow up in your face. Life could become even more difficult.'

Disagreeing, Harry shook his head. 'There's nothing I said to Madam Bones that should hurt us, right? I didn't say anything about the Order or Snape, it was all about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I just need to know it's not going to screw things up for you.'

It seemed as though Kingsley was going to argue the point, but just as he parted his lips he seemed to think better of himself. Instead he paused, taking a mouthful of his dinner as he pondered Harry's words.

'The last thing we need is the likes of Lucius Malfoy thinking the Ministry took your statement seriously. We need them to keep thinking it's only the Order after them.'

'Right,' Harry murmured in disappointment. He had wondered if this might come up, and he was glad he had asked. Nevertheless he didn't say anything else...if Kingsley didn't want him to do this he was going to have to say so explicitly.

'Will you let me think about it?' Kingsley finally asked. 'Let me revisit the transcript and see how much shit would hit the fan before you do anything.'

'Sure. You'll tell me if I can do it then?'

'Yes. You know I'll have to tell Professor Dumbledore.'

This offhand comment irked Harry to no end. 'If he's got a problem with it, tell him to talk to me.' It was a thinly veiled jab, one he couldn't help but make even though he understood Dumbledore's position. 'Thanks Kingsley.'

Saying nothing more on the subject Harry excused himself from the table, taking his plate and utensils to the sink and leaving them there. The twins were cleaning up that night, and confident his part was done he simply collected two Butterbeers from the pantry and made a quick departure, stopping only to thank Mrs Weasley and Lupin for cooking.

'There's a plate for you downstairs,' Harry announced, stepping out onto the cold terrace upstairs. 'Figured you'd eat later.'

Sirius was exactly where Harry knew he would be find him, sitting on the terrace in the cold night air. Though he came up here for privacy and solitude he never seemed to mind when Harry joined him, something he did frequently, for it was about the only time they got to hang out just the two of them.

'Butterbeer,' Sirius moaned in feigned protest. Nevertheless he took out his wand and tapped both bottles, warming them up before taking one. He patted his stomach as he put his feet up on the terrace railing. 'Oh, to have the metabolism of a fifteen year old.'

Harry laughed, taking a seat and putting his feet up in the same fashion, tipping back on the rear legs of the chair just for fun. 'How did the Order meeting go?'

'Very well,' Sirius replied, the only answer he ever gave to this question.

'Any word from Dumbledore?'

There was no need to clarify that Harry was asking about how he was supposed to protect himself from slipping into Voldemort's mind.

'None yet.'

This too was the same answer Sirius had given whenever Harry had asked this particular question, except this time he detected a little dishonesty. Sirius hadn't quiet met his eye when he spoke, and had answered a little too quickly.

'You warm enough?' he asked in concern, looking Harry up and down. 'Don't want you catching a cold.'

Before he answered Sirius had cast a warming charm on him, one that allowed him to enjoy the cold night air without suffering it. Grateful for it Harry began to relax, looking out across the city skyline…but it was harder to enjoy it tonight.

'If I asked you to let me stay here instead of go back to Hogwarts, would you let me?'

Sirius didn't answer for a long moment. 'That bad, huh?'

'Pretty much,' Harry shrugged unhappily. 'So? Would you?'

Though he hadn't expected any different, he was still disappointed when Sirius shook his head. 'Even if I said yes, you know it couldn't happen.'

Harry nodded. 'What about Easter and Summer?'

'You should probably stay at school over Easter, you'll need the time to get ready for your exams. As for summer, don't get your hopes up. You have to go back to Privet Drive, you know that.'

Feeling he'd rather be lied to right now, Harry found he didn't appreciate Sirius's blunt honesty. 'That could have done with a little sugar coating.'

'You want sugar coating, go to Molly.'

There was no perceptible change of tone, but Harry felt a sudden coolness emanating from his godfather, for the first time getting the feeling that his presence up there wasn't actually welcome. He had come up here planning to tell Sirius about his idea to go public with his story, but he shied away from that now. It wouldn't be well received - Sirius had made that clear.

'It's a bit cold out here, actually,' he said shortly, making sure Sirius heard the discontent in his voice. 'Good night.'

Going back inside he felt even more deflated than before, and taking his warm Butterbeer he headed downstairs to join the others who had slowly begun coming up to the drawing room, Ginny and Ron having brought out a board game. Tonks and Emmeline Vance had joined Mrs Weasley, the three of them sharing a bottle of wine together as the atmosphere grew merry. It made it easier for Harry to fake enthusiasm as he joined in and passed the evening away.

Later that night when he and Ron went up to bed he was disappointed to find that Sirius was not there already, and that he did not join them either. Ron asked where Sirius was, the first time he had made any mention of the fact that Sirius was sleeping in their room, and Harry just shrugged, not wanting to answer. Like with everything else the explanation felt trivial. Who was he to complain about a squabble with Sirius when Ron's dad was in hospital, having nearly lost his life?

He went to bed trying not to dwell on things too much, but still wishing he could have gotten off his chest the idea of taking his story public. It was one thing to mention it to Kingsley, but it had been Sirius's opinion he really craved…hell, he had hoped for the unrestrained support he usually gave this kind of rebellious act.

Somehow Harry managed to fall asleep, despite still feeling uneasy about the possibility that he might again accidentally slip into Voldemort's mind. His funny dreams never wavered, he saw the long corridor again and was reaching his hand out for the door when something roused him. He abruptly sat up, worried that it was Kreacher sneaking in to lurk around. But it was a far taller silhouette that came inside, one that promptly shrunk down to knee level the moment the door clicked shut.

Ron continued to softly snore while Padfoot jumped up onto the end of Harry's bed. Without a word Harry lay back down, still feeling annoyed with his godfather. Nevertheless he moved over and made room for him, watching as he turned in circles and then laid down, his head resting on Harry's knee.

Still mad at his godfather for his dismissive answers to just about everything, Harry nevertheless began to feel a little better than night. Having Sirius sleeping in the same room over the last few weeks had been a much needed reassurance that should something happen again, someone could do something to stop him. Comforted by this knowledge, Harry slowly drifted off into a restless sleep.

A/N I never liked how Harry was ambushed by Hermione with the Quibbler interview. I get why JKR left out the pre-planning of the interview, but him not being involved in the choice until he was ambushed robbed him of all agency. So I've gone with this deviation from the original plot and hope the new angle makes for an enjoyable read.

Thanks for the reviews, really appreciate them all!