'What's Sirius doing?' he asked, his question an afterthought.

Kreacher stopped in the doorway. 'Entertaining a guest.'

Slopping a little tea onto the saucer he looked up in surprise. There was someone else here? 'What guest?'

'Kreacher is not supposed to know…but Kreacher knows.'

Getting to his feet Harry abandoned all thoughts of tea and homework. 'Kreacher. What guest?'

Kreacher looked at him, and this time Harry knew he was relishing the answer, and the effect it would have. 'Professor Snape.'

For a moment Harry was completely taken aback. The notion that Snape was there at Grimmauld Place felt so foreign and unexpected it took a moment to actually comprehend it. For a moment Harry stood frozen, not ever wanting to lay eyes on Snape again, still coming to terms with the last three months of invasive Occlumency lessons. But he couldn't stand the thought that he and Sirius must be talking about him. He needed to defend himself and stand his ground, and he couldn't do that without facing Snape in person.

He hastened out onto the landing, slipping past Kreacher who was again muttering that he wasn't supposed to know. The silence in the hallway below suggested Snape must be downstairs in the basement, but he didn't make it any further than the ground floor before Sirius managed to somehow intercept him.

'Harry, I'm sorry, bu-'

'What's Snape doing here?' he demanded.

'He's here to see me,' Sirius explained, ushering him away from the basement door. 'And I'm sorry, but this isn't a conversation for you.'

'It's about me, isn't it?' he said in indignation. 'Who else is down there?'

'Dumbledore's coming,' Sirius implored, taking him by the upper arm. 'I'm expecting him any minute, which is why you have to go back upstairs.'

When Sirius tried to make him walk back down the hall he resisted, yanking his arm out of his hand. That kind of touch sickened him, someone taking him by the arm and trying to make him do something was exactly how the Death Eaters had treated him.

'Don't do that.'

'Go upstairs.'

'Let me see Dumbledore,' he pleaded. 'Please.'

Sirius shook his head, growing exasperated with him very quickly. 'He won't see you, and you know why. We've talked about this before.'

'Well thanks for telling me he was even coming.'

'I'm asking him if you can stay here longer, you told me not to get your hopes up about that,' Sirius argued, beginning to match Harry's annoyed tone. 'If he says no you were supposed to be none the wiser. Now go. Go upstairs, finish your homework.'

'Sirius, I-'

'This isn't up for debate,' he said bluntly, pointing to the stairs. 'Go.'

Harry glared at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance - but begrudgingly he was forced to admit (to himself at least) that Sirius was right. He had asked him to not get his hopes up…that was what he had tried to do. But now he knew what was going on he wanted to be a part of it, resenting that decisions were made about his life without any consultation.

'I hate that Dumbledore makes all these decisions about my life without ever asking me. Now Snape gets a say too?' Harry questioned. 'Why can't I have a say for once?'

The tension waned now, but Sirius's position did not change. 'You have your say through me,' he said, ushering Harry back towards the stairs again. 'You know why Dumbledore won't see you. You know it's not personal.'

It's personal to me, Harry thought to himself. Months had passed and explanations were made, but it still left him disheartened that Dumbledore would not hold a single conversation with him. When he came back from Malfoy Manor, Dumbledore was the first and only person he wanted to see…and he'd been the first person to whom he had spoken about what happened to him.

Without another word Harry left, dejectedly going upstairs, but he did not return to his homework. Instead he lingered on the upstairs landing and waited, hidden from sight from anyone downstairs. Knowing what he did he couldn't simply wait. Nervous and anxious he lingered just out of sight, his stomach churning.

Any minute now they would be deciding his fate, determining when he would go back to Hogwarts, when he would have to face up to Occlumency again. Mentally he was bargaining with himself, thinking of arguments and compromises, figuring out what he'd be willing to do to get his way. Sirius had been right. It would have been better that he didn't know that this meeting was happening, that it be kept secret from him. And now his hopes were up, he was anxious and worried whereas five minutes ago he had been fine. He wished Kreacher had never told him.

When there came a knock at the door he was momentarily surprised, still in the habit of bracing for Mrs Black to start screeching. But the only sound was Sirius's prompt footsteps down the hallway, and then sound of the door opening. Moving a little closer to the stairs, but not so close that they might see him, he strained to listen.

The sound of Dumbledore's voice was completely surreal - the last he had seen or heard of him had been the night the DA were caught, when Dumbledore took the blame and then fled. It felt like that had been months ago, not mere weeks.

'Albus. How are you?'

'I'm well. Aberforth is still taking good care of me. I'm sure you remember from your youth breakfast at the Hog's Head does soothe a sore head in the mornings.'

Sirius managed a small chuckle. 'It's funny, I don't seem to recall much of those mornings.'

'Yes, absinthe is quite the amnesiac.'

Harry frowned, certain he had misheard. But it seemed Sirius hadn't been lying or joking - Dumbledore really was at the Hog's Head, boldly out in the open where no one would think to find him.

'It seems our conversation is not entirely private,' Dumbledore commented. 'No, it's quite alright,' he hurriedly added. 'Tell me, Sirius. How has he been?'

There was a pause, and no doubt Sirius was annoyed that Harry was eavesdropping. 'McGonagall's concerned about his O.W.L. exams. But he won't make it to his exams the way things are.'

'Mmm,' Dumbledore murmured. 'Harry's exams - while important - are the least of my concerns.'

'Mine too. He wants to see you.'

'Let us go downstairs and speak in private,' Dumbledore suggested lightly.

As they moved down the hallway he crept closer to the stairs, leaning over the balustrade so he could listen for as long as possible.

'Snape's here already. I poured him a drink, but he seems to think its poisoned.'

'I'm certain you would never seek to bring a fellow Order member to harm.'

Sirius guffawed. 'Your faith in my self-control is concerning.'

When at last their voices vanished Harry sighed in disappointment. There was no use in trying the Extendable Ears, trusting that Sirius would have put up an Impertuable Charm. Previously over summer and Christmas he hadn't seemed to mind him listening in on certain things, but given the extent to which he had attempted to keep him out of this he doubted he would let him eavesdrop.

There was nothing more he could do but wait, and he sure as hell wasn't going back to his Potions homework right now. He tried keep himself occupied, spending some time at the back window and looking into the overgrown garden he wasn't yet allowed out in. But restless energy would not allow him to let his mind wander, and a short while later he found himself sitting on the lowermost staircase, in full view of anyone who would eventually come up from the basement.

Maybe ten minutes passed while he waited on the stairs, kept company only by Kreacher who was lurking around, perhaps offended that he wasn't drinking tea he had brought to him. But finally the basement door opened, his heart rate lurching when he looked back to see two people emerge.

Sirius and Snape made their way down the hallway in complete silence, and he didn't bother pretending that he hadn't been waiting here for them. But there was no interaction. Snape ignored him completely, not even glancing in his direction even to sneer. Nevertheless he didn't feel the normal tension in the air, not even that which naturally existed between the old enemies.

They both stepped outside to the front, and they were out there a few minutes. Filled with nervous energy he waited, trying not to wring his hands together when Sirius came back inside and closed the door, locking it securely. It was a relief to see that he wasn't angry or upset, but rather calm and measured, which gave him hope.

'There'll be conditions attached,' Sirius explained. 'But Dumbledore agreed you can stay until the start of next term.'

Instantly Harry's heart soared, an enormous weight physically lifting from his chest. 'A whole month?'

Sirius nodded. 'If you want it.'

'Yes,' he breathed.

'There are conditions,' Sirius repeated. 'He'll tell you himself if you're willing to see him.'

Willing? Harry was more than willing to see Dumbledore. Without hesitation he got to his feet and headed down to the basement, taking a moment to consciously temper his happiness and relief.

Dumbledore was waiting politely at the kitchen table, fingers interlocked and his long purple robes pooled on the floor. When Harry entered he turned around and gave him a polite nod of the head. Sirius has followed him down, but he lingered by the door, allowing him and Dumbledore to talk without intruding too much.

'Hello, Professor,' he said politely, sitting down opposite him.

'Hello, Harry.'

For a brief moment his spirits lifted even further, for it seemed like Dumbledore was actually looking at him. But it wasn't the case, for though Dumbledore was looking towards him it was like every other time they had spoken recently. There was no eye contact, Dumbledore's gaze fixated somewhere over his shoulder, and as soon as he realised this he too averted his gaze a little. He knew what this was about, remembering the flash of malevolence he felt the night Mr Weasley was attacked, the last time he and Dumbledore had made eye contact.

'May I see your hand? Please.'

Harry hesitated, annoyed but not surprised that Sirius had told someone what Umbridge had done to him. Reaching out he placed his right hand on the kitchen table between them, holding his breath a few moments while Dumbledore leant forward and studied the scars. Dumbledore moved as though reaching out to touch his hand, but then he seemed to think better of it.

When he leant back into his chair Dumbledore's face was lined with weariness. 'I assure you Harry, I was not aware of what Professor Umbridge was doing. Had I been aware of course it would not have been tolerated. I wish you had told me what was happening.'

He took his hand back, dejected. 'So they could fire you six months ago?'

Dumbledore didn't say anything in response, and he got the feeling that perhaps he didn't know what to say. His lined face looked world weary, the slump of his shoulders betraying his efforts to appear at ease.

'I'm sorry about what happened with the DA,' Harry began, unable to let another moment go by without acknowledging what he had done. 'I'm sorry that you had to take the blame for me.'

Dumbledore managed a smile now, one that seemed genuine. Nevertheless he still did not meet Harry's eyes. 'I appreciate your apology, however it's not necessary. I was aware of your activities, and I saw no reason to stop you.'

'You should have.'

'We'll have to agree to disagree,' he said lightly. 'I understand that group meant a great deal to you. Particularly in the face of an establishment that seeks only to minimise your power and autonomy.'

'I suppose,' he muttered, appreciating this acknowledgement. Still, he was glad that Dumbledore didn't linger on the subject but rather moved on quickly.

'Sirius has requested on both your behalf that you take some time off from your schooling, and a break from your Occlumency lessons. A request to which I have offered my preliminary agreement, pending a few necessary conditions.'

'Conditions like what?'

'That this is what you wish?' Dumbledore clarified. 'You do not wish to return to Hogwarts?'

'No.'

Though Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement, he seemed disappointed.

'It's near enough to the Easter break. Students normally don't go home during this period. Particularly O.W.L. students such as yourself. However, I'm sure Professor McGonagall would permit an exception be made on the condition you were to keep up with your studies. It is my understanding your classwork is up to date as of this week?'

'Almost,' he said honestly.

'Very good. I see Sirius has kept his word that you wouldn't fall behind,' Dumbledore said approvingly, giving Sirius a nod. 'There are two weeks remaining of term, and two weeks of Easter break. I should hope that things might be different when you to return to Hogwarts.'

This comment piqued Harry's attention. 'Why do you say that? Do you know something?'

'Nothing I can promise,' Dumbledore answered. 'But I expect plans will continue to develop with time. Plans that would make your life at Hogwarts more bearable.'

Harry nodded, accepting the non-specific answer. He dwelled on these comments for a moment, thinking them over. But before he could let his thoughts wander too far he was reminded again, painfully, of what the compromise was going to be.

'I have to go back to Occlumency, don't I?'

Dumbledore nodded. He cleared his throat, and for the briefest of seconds he almost made eye contact. He spoke softly now, with sympathy. 'I'm afraid that is the condition of my agreement. Shall we say, in two weeks? Professor Snape will arrange for your lessons to be held here at Grimmauld Place until your return to Hogwarts. The conduct of your lessons has been discussed at great length. I daresay you can expect to make better progress when you resume.'

Now Harry was silent. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't verbalise agreement of any kind, he physically could not agree to it…so he said nothing.

'I understand your reluctance,' Dumbledore said gently, choosing his words with great care. 'Occlumency can be a challenge to master, but particularly so for yourself, with the burden you carry. I wouldn't ask you to vividly relive such traumatic events were it not of critical importance. Important not only to your personal safety, but to our path forward.'

For a second time Harry's interest was piqued. 'Our path, Sir?'

'Mmm,' Dumbledore murmured. He looked away completely now, his gaze cast somewhere towards the kitchen cabinets. 'There will soon come a time when you and I must hold private conversations. It is essential that Lord Voldemort does not ever see this as an opportunity to bring you to harm.'

Silence fell again, but Harry didn't mind. It gave him a few moments to dwell on Dumbledore's words, particularly his acknowledgement of how traumatic Occlumency was. But now he had a reason to do it…a goal. This wasn't just about protecting him from Voldemort. Dumbledore wanted to talk to him in private.

There were things he needed to hear, things that had to be kept hidden from Voldemort, because Voldemort would one day come for him again, that was given. If he wanted to know anything of importance, he first had to make sure he stood a chance of keeping it from Voldemort. There was after all, a reason that after all these months he had not tried to ask Dumbledore or Sirius for any more information. Except, now…

'If I learn Occlumency, will you tell me about the Prophecy?'

If Dumbledore was at all surprised by this question, he didn't show it. After all, Harry was the one who told him that Voldemort had interrogated him about it. He had to expect Harry would ask for more information eventually.

'Yes,' Dumbledore agreed. 'Should you master Occlumency to my satisfaction.'

He let out a slow breath, and he glanced at Sirius from the corner of his eye. Part of him had expected resistance, more bargaining and conditions…but it was that simple. Learn Occlumency and Dumbledore would tell him things, perhaps even look him in the eye again.

But still he couldn't verbalise his agreement. He couldn't actually agree to the tormented lessons with Snape, no matter what changes he implemented. Instead he nodded his head, consenting. Two weeks.

'Thank you, Harry,' Dumbledore said, giving him an approving smile. A beat passed, Dumbledore taking a deep breath as though he too had felt a great weight lifting off his shoulders. 'I'd best say farewell, unless there is anything else you wish to discuss.'

He cleared his throat. 'No. Thank you, Professor.'

'Very well. Should you wish, you can have your owl deliver me a letter at the Hogs Head, and I will ensure it gets safely to Mr Weasley or Miss Granger without passing certain security protocols. I'm sure they'd like to hear from you given the extension of your time here at Grimmauld Place.'

'Thank you.'

'Good day then, Harry.'

Their brief conversation having concluded Dumbledore rose to his feet. As he began to leave Harry remained sitting at the kitchen table, feeling as though the conversation hadn't actually reached a conclusion. There was more for him to say, something else he wanted to ask for, and it hit him suddenly.

'Three weeks.'

He blurted the words without thinking, finding himself on his feet without consciously deciding to. At the kitchen door Dumbledore turned around to him curiously, though he still did not look him directly in the eye. There was no need to ask what he was referring to.

'We did agree to two.'

'I know we agreed,' he said heavily. 'But, please, Sir…three weeks.'

It didn't take much for Dumbledore to relent. A moment passed as he thought it over, but then he nodded his head in agreement. 'Providing there are no extenuating circumstances you will resume your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape in three weeks.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

Having revised their agreement Dumbledore promptly took his leave, not lingering any longer lest Harry try to bargain for something else. Dumbledore and Sirius left the kitchen, giving him the space to let out a deep breath of relief. Grateful for all he had gained he sank back down to sit at the table, putting his head in his hands as he thought it over.

He would have an entire month here at Grimmauld Place. He didn't have to go back to Hogwarts until the start of next term, and by then Dumbledore seemed to think something might be different…that it might be bearable for him. This alone came at an enormous relief, the prospect of an entire month ahead of him in the solitude and comfort of Grimmauld Place lifting his spirits considerably.

The only thing to dampen his spirits was the ongoing prospect of Occlumency, something he had always known he couldn't get away from. But he had a reprieve of three weeks, time during which he could relax. There would be school work to cover and considerable work around Grimmauld Place to fill his days, but he didn't have to live under constant ridicule and scrutiny.

Surely the relief might improve his chances of finally figuring out Occlumency.

'How did you convince him to let me stay?' he asked as soon as Sirius returned downstairs.

He too relieved by the arrangement, Sirius sat down in the chair Dumbledore had previously occupied. 'I didn't ask.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'You told Dumbledore?'

Nodding, Sirius strummed his fingers on top of the table. 'It helped that we had Snape in our corner.'

'You're joking. What did he say?'

'He didn't put it as kindly as he could have,' Sirius murmured, pulling a face. 'The gist of it was that he agreed you could use a break.'

'What did he say?'

'What does it matter?'

'It matters,' Harry said firmly. 'He's spent the last three months poking around in my head. I want to know what he had to say about it.'

Though he seemed reluctant, Sirius elaborated. 'He said we've failed you. That we should have done more for you.'

Harry was taken aback, but his inner voice was crying out in relief - finally. For months had he resented the way things had been for him, the lack of control he was afforded over his own life. That he had been dumped at the Dursleys and left to fend for himself, that people like Malfoy and Fudge were able to slander him at will….Umbridge, Occlumency…all of it, dumped on him. And finally, someone admitted that was wrong.

'He told me some things that were hard to hear,' Sirius continued, voice wavering a little. 'That you're not coping with what happened in June as well as I thought. I knew you were having nightmares, but Snape sai-.'

'Don't,' Harry said abruptly, cutting him off.

He didn't want to hear anymore. Beginning to fume he slumped back in the chair and looked at the opposite wall, and he automatically folded his arms across his chest. That was not where this conversation was meant to go. They weren't meant to be talking about it. Not today, not ever. But of course Snape must have told Sirius everything…he should have known their agreement about Occlumency remaining private was complete rubbish.

Sirius shifted in his chair, taking a slow breath. 'You and I have not really talked about it at all.'

'There's nothing to talk about. It's over.'

'I disagree,' Sirius said quietly. 'And I'm sorry. I should have known you weren't okay.'

Harry glanced at him, his heart sinking at the expression on Sirius's face. He looked crestfallen, something he was not used to seeing in his Godfather. In that split second it was easier to remember the Sirius Black he had met nearly two years ago, the one with matted hair down to this elbows, his face sunken in with Azkaban robes hanging from his skinny frame.

'You couldn't have,' he said very quickly, trying to spare Sirius the regret he clearly felt. 'I didn't want you to know.'

'Why not?'

This entire conversation had come out of nowhere, and the hurt he felt in Sirius's voice was difficult to stomach. His every nerve felt raw and exposed, like someone had peeled back his skin to reveal the ugly truth of what was beneath.

'You can't do anything.'

An excruciating silence fell now, a familiar lump swelling up in his throat, and so he quickly changed the subject. 'You didn't fail me,' he muttered, hating that Sirius seemed to feel this way.

'We haven't exactly given you what you needed.'

'You didn't fail me,' Harry repeated, emphasising. He took a deep breath, the deflection away from himself helping him stay in control. 'I know you tried to change things, especially over the summer. And the Weasleys,' he added, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to express his gratitude for them. 'Even just those two days at the Burrow. It helped.'

It felt like nothing had been resolved, the good news of his extended stay falling flat in the face of what Sirius had told him. Lingering right there between them was the truth of the last nine months, the truth that he had figured out how to function and go about his life again, but that didn't mean he was coping. But regardless, it was not something he was ready to talk about.

'Allow me to fail you one last time?'

Harry looked up, fearing Sirius's voice was a little lighter. 'How so?'

Managing a smile, Sirius got to his feet and headed over to the pantry, and from the very back he withdrew a clear bottle of what looked like whiskey. 'I should not be giving a fifteen year old hard liquor,' he acknowledged, taking two crystal glasses from the cabinet and setting them on the table. 'No one is to hear of this, alright?'

'My lips are sealed,' Harry grinned, as he had when Sirius first suggested they properly toast to his dad's birthday. He watched as two glasses were poured, dismayed to note that one was considerably less than the other. 'You're a bit bloody stingy - where's the rest of it?'

'This is your first taste, you're not going to like it,' Sirius warned, passing him the much smaller glass. 'And whiskey this good does not get wasted on first timers.'

Grinning nonetheless, he peered at the amber liquid, giving it a quick sniff.

'To your mum and dad,' Sirius said, raising his glass and tapping it against his. 'Happy birthday, James.'

'Happy birthday.'

Following Sirius's lead he took a tentative sip then immediately lowered the glass, coughing and wheezing from the revolting taste of what he imagined one would clean a toilet with. While Sirius chuckled in amusement he tried again, out of pride more than anything, and somehow managed to swallow a mouthful without spluttering it everywhere. He put the empty glass down with a thud and swore, his mouth, throat and even his nose searing as though burned.

'Disgusting,' Harry wheezed, his eyes watering. 'How do you drink that?'

'It's an acquired taste. You'll stick to butter beer from now on,' Sirius assured him, kindly summoning a bottle of said butter beer and flicking the cap off.

'Thanks,' he said gratefully, immediately taking a drink and ridding himself of the taste of alcohol.

He took a moment to catch his breath, appreciative that the subject had changed. Between them the unfinished conversation lay in wait, one that he knew was not going to wait for very long. But Sirius had promised him a toast to his dad on his thirty sixth birthday.

'Here's to a month together.'

'I'll drink to that.'

Despite the difficult conversation that had been breached that afternoon, by all accounts he and Sirius had enjoyed a great evening together. After they toasted to his dad's birthday Harry had retreated upstairs to dispose of his failed antidote, taking a few minutes to pull his thoughts together after everything that had transpired. The notion that he was at Grimmauld Place for an entire month took a while to sink in, but as it did he felt the pressure of his return to Hogwarts slowly lifting from his shoulders, even as it was simultaneously replaced by the prospect of also returning to Occlumency.

In tribute to his dad Harry and Sirius had finally ventured upstairs to his childhood bedroom, which thanks to a few well placed curses was exactly as he had left it when he ran away from home at sixteen. As a teenager Sirius had plastered almost his entire room with an assortment of posters that were chosen specifically to clash with his parent's beliefs, from Gryffindor banners to muggle posters of bikini-clad girls and motorcycles. It was a chaotic jumble of contraband, and felt like what he imagined the inside of a fun-house might be

Sharing this together gave them Harry and Sirius each a much needed lift, time passing quickly and joyfully as they pored over the trinkets and belongings he had left behind. Photos of him, James, Lupin and Pettigrew at Hogwarts, scrapped drafts of the Marauders Map and random notes they must had passed around during their classes.

It was their latest night by far, both of them turning in to bed not long before midnight, and though Harry was weary and tired his thoughts were full. It went beyond the relief of staying here another month, beyond the insight into his father and godfather's teenage years…Snape was on his mind too.

Already transformed and asleep on the hearth by the fireplace, Sirius was unaware that Harry lay awake for almost another hour. He fixed his attention onto the two scars that adorned his left arm and hand, ones that Snape had inflicted to prove to Voldemort he held no genuine concern for Harry's well being.

Despite what had happened last June, the ongoing contempt and hatred they both felt for one another, and despite how awful Snape made Occlumency for him…Snape had helped plead Harry's case. He had taken Sirius's side, had criticised Dumbledore efforts to take care of him over the last few months. Without Snape also advocating for him he might have been returning to Hogwarts as early as tomorrow afternoon.

As for whatever he had told Sirius, the insight he had gained through their failed Occlumency lessons…Harry hated to think. Still, it felt strange to acknowledge that the person who caused him so much pain and torment was also the person who best understood what was going on with him.

A/N I'm not really confident with the second half of this chapter, it got a rewrite today thanks to some changes I made to 51 (Sirius's POV), so I hope it came out okay - let me know what you think, and much gratitude to my awesome reviewers. I love reading your thoughts about the story and your enthusiasm is infectious. Thanks.