WARNING: violence, murder.

...

Ambush. Death Eaters. Might not make it out alive.

Stay at Hogwarts. Love you.

Sirius.

Fuck.

Cracks disturbed the image of debris on Harry's mirror and for a moment he thought his mirror had broken; but when he ran a hand over it and found it to be just as smooth as ever, he realised that it wasn't his mirror that had broken, but Sirius's. Harry broke the connection and for a moment all that could be heard in the quiet was his breath and the beating of his heart.

Then he heard a scuffle and a grey rat quickly scuttled back under his bed. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry grabbed his wand and shot a stunner in the direction where it had gone. Judging by the squeak it preceded, he very nearly missed, and a moment later Wormtail crawled back out and made a run for it.

There was no way he was going to let him go. Not after everything he did. Harry locked the door to the stairs and Banished a pillow at Wormtail, who scurried away at the last second and started running along the far wall, with Harry shooting various hexes at him, just barely missing every time.

Finally, Harry hit him with the same spell Lockhart had used on the snake back in his second year, and Wormtail went flying upwards, smacked into the ceiling and fell onto the windowsill, mere inches from the open window. Harry sent a Full Body-Bind at him just to make sure and watched as the frozen rat teetered on the ledge, one hair's breadth away from certain death —

And then he fell.

The walls tilted sideways and Harry's knees hit the floor. The room was much too bright, even though it was only five in the morning, and his dorm-mates beginning to stir sounded like the firing of a thousand cannons. Suddenly there wasn't enough air. Through the haze, Harry barely managed to make it to the bathroom before he emptied his stomach with bile.

As his breathing slowed, he registered hands on his back and someone calling his name.

'...okay? Harry!'

Looking up at Ron, Harry realised that there were tears mingling with sweat on his face and he hastily wiped them away with his sleeve. Ron, meanwhile, had knelt down on the cold tiled floor and was now holding him up with one hand as he asked, 'What is it? Was it your scar?'

Harry shook his head, still trembling all over.

'It –,' he cleared his throat, '– it's Sirius, he's with the Order and they got ambushed – and then Wormtail –'

A coughing fit interrupted him and made his eyes water. Just as he'd regained his breath, Professor McGonagall entered the room, looking as imposing as ever in a tartan dressing gown and with her hair down, Neville lingering awkwardly near the door behind her.

'I just contacted my godfather, they're in a battle, he doesn't know if he'll even survive,' Harry rambled desperately, 'please, I have to—'

'Mr Potter, I'm assuming that Mr Black told you to stay where you are?'

Harry nodded. McGonagall's face softened.

'Then do as he said. And please go down to the hospital wing and ask Madam Pomfrey for a Calming Draught.'

She patted his shoulder sympathetically and left before he could protest. Harry looked up at Ron desperately, 'We have to do something.'

'You haven't told me what's going on! Sirius –'

'Sirius is in a battle and he's dying, that's what's happening!' snapped Harry and ran down the stairs to the common room, pausing only to grab his wand and Floo powder pouch.

'Harry, wait!'

He grabbed a handful of the powder and had been about to throw it into the fireplace when Ron caught up to him and grabbed the hand that was holding the powder and tugged it away from him.

'Look, mate, I know it's Sirius and I know you're worried mad, but even McGonagall told you to stay. I want to go help him just as much, but please just – at least get Hermione if you're going to –'

'There's no time!' Why didn't Ron understand? While he was holding him back Sirius could be dying at this very moment!

'How're you even gonna get there? What, you Floo to Grimmauld, and then what? You can't apparate, you don't even know where the Grangers live!'

'I'll – er – I could go to Dumbledore?'

'And you think he'll just let you go? Harry, this isn't first year where it was obviously a game for the three of us, this is war! Look, if you want to go then I'll go with you, I just think that –'

'Okay, okay.' Though going mad with fear, Harry had to concede that Ron had a point. He had no way of getting to Sirius in time, even if he had known where he was. So for now he was stuck waiting for news.

Harry settled on the sofa in front of the fireplace and tapped his foot agitatedly. Yesterday he and Sirius had talked way into midnight, with Sirius describing their plan down to the last detail, and then he hadn't been able to go to sleep for another hour because he hadn't been able to stop thinking, and wouldn't it feel nice to just sleep...

...

Imbeciles.

He'd given them one task – murder the Grangers and write Potter's name in blood on the windows of what they called a house, and yet even that was apparently too much for those idiotic dimwits. What should have taken no longer than five minutes all things considered had turned into a massacre, and it was almost hard to tell who was winning.

Well. Almost.

A body flew past him and he effortlessly sent a Cruciatus Curse at the culprit. To his left Bella's cousin, the blood-traitor, was battling another of his troops, and he almost sent a Killing Curse at him, but thought better of it at the last second and let him defeat whoever it was.

Any triumph that may have crossed Black's face was wiped away immediately when he caught sight of him, and it was almost comical. He chuckled and sent a lazy curse which Black immediately blocked. He hadn't been intending for it to meet its target.

'Black.'

'Voldemort,' spat Black, and the little blood-traitor probably thought he sounded angry. To him he just sounded desperate.

'What is it that keeps you from joining the winning side?' Of course, he knew the answer. Love. They talked about it like it was their greatest strength. Fools. Love was a weakness and one which he was above.

Black snorted.

'Oh, I don't know, because you killed nearly everyone I love and because you're hellbent on doing the same to my godson?'

'Things don't have to be this way. You could join my side and I swear that I won't touch a hair on Potter's head. Lord Voldemort is merciful and he rewards his helpers.'

Not even a spark of doubt passed across the blood-traitor's expression and his voice was firm when he said, 'No. Never.'

'Well, then, on your own head, be it.'

And he cast.

...

'Harry!'

Hands shook him and he awoke to find Hermione's face inches from his own. She immediately moved away and he sat up, breathing heavily. Merlin, his head hurt like hell.

'What is it? Nightmare?'

Harry shook his head and swallowed.

'Scar.' He reached up and rubbed his forehead angrily. In a few minutes his dream would come back to him, they always did.

'Oh God. Weren't you doing the Occlumency exercises?'

'I was. I'm –,' he cleared his throat, '– I can't control it when I'm under stress.'

Then he remembered.

'What –'

'Sirius. Shit.' Addressing Ron more than Hermione, Harry continued, 'He was facing off Voldemort and then Voldemort cast a curse and – oh fuck,' he breathed. 'He could be –'

'You still haven't told me what's going on, what am I missing?'

Harry left the explaining to Ron, who hurriedly recounted the morning's events, jumped up and started pacing.

'...so now Sirius is in a battle somewhere and we're –'

'We have to go,' interrupted Harry. 'I can't just stay here and do nothing, at least in Grimmauld Place I'll be near if Sirius is injured.'

'But Harry,' said Hermione, 'Sirius would want you to stay where you are. He told you so, didn't he? Besides, he'll call you when the battle is over.'

'Yeah, mate, I think Hermione's right. Besides, Sirius did kick us out, he might not be happy to –'

'Either you come with me or I go alone.'

Hermione sighed and got up. Harry turned his attention to Ron.

'I'll come,' the latter offered and Harry felt a rush of appreciation for his best friends. He passed the pouch to Hermione and walked up to the fireplace.

'Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!'

...

Ron had only just stepped out of the fireplace when they heard a loud crack and Harry near-sprinted to the living room.

'Oh...'

Hermione's breathing became irregular and Ron's freckles stood out like black on white on his pale face. It took Harry a moment to identify the body which Sirius was clinging to as if his life depended on it – but then he noticed the bubblegum pink hair, and it took all the strength Harry had to force himself to approach Sirius, who hadn't moved an inch.

'Sirius?' Harry touched his shoulder. 'Can you – er –'

'Sirius, I – I think you should let go of Tonks.' Hermione had tears in her eyes. 'You can't help her now.'

Harry bent down and slowly tugged Tonks's body out of Sirius's slackened grip, trying his best to pretend she was just another faceless stranger lost to Voldemort's cause. He levitated her on the sofa and Hermione conjured a cloth that she laid onto Tonks with a sniffle. Harry couldn't believe it. He'd only talked to Tonks a few times, but that had been enough to cement her in his mind as someone vibrant and full of life. Not a corpse.

Reading about strangers in the papers was one thing; being in a room with a dead body was quite another.

'Sirius.'

Harry shared a glance with Ron, whose face still hadn't returned to its proper colour, and called his godfather's name again. Sirius frowned for a moment, then suddenly shook his head, as though breaking out of a trance. His eyes ran over the three of them and he nodded, as though he'd just confirmed for himself something only he had known about.

'I'll go make breakfast then.'

And the same Sirius who had been near-catatonic a few moments prior sprung up and left the room, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione to catch up, and by the time they reached the kitchen there was a pan on the stove and the scent of bacon was wafting through the air.

'What – Sirius, you haven't even told us what happened!'

Sirius turned away from Harry slightly and replied without taking his eyes off the bacon, 'The battle happened.'

He then did an odd movement with his mouth that was probably supposed to resemble a smile and waved his hand across the row of chairs in invitation. Ron hesitantly pulled out a chair and sat down, Hermione following suit. Trying very hard to ignore the body in the other room, Harry said more forcefully, 'Sirius. Please.'

Sirius sighed and levitated the pan off the stove, setting it nearby. 'Look, I haven't...processed it yet. I don't know if you can relate, but when something big happens and for a while it's as if it didn't actually happen and you're just watching a movie in first person? That. I mean, of course I remember everything, it's just for me it's – you know what, never mind. I'll just tell you what happened.'

Privately, Harry thought, Good, because I didn't understand a word of what you were saying. Not that uncommon an occurrence, either. Harry had come to realise that his godfather was beyond the sort of complicated he could relate to, and it meant a good chunk of what Sirius said was a puzzle to him.

'So we were ambushed again. There was a lot of them and I'm not sure how many people died, but by the time Voldemort came, Tonks and I were the only ones left standing. I don't know why he showed up, but yeah. Voldemort was there. I'm pretty sure he called off the remaining Death Eaters, because after that he tried to get me to join him and they didn't try to kill me while I wasn't looking. I don't know where Tonks went, but she must have hidden. So I refused and he started shooting curses at me, and then Tonks came out of nowhere and managed to Apparate us out, but – well.'

No one needed to be told what happened after that. To Harry's left Hermione was wiping tears from her eyes. It was obvious she wanted to ask about her parents, but chose to refrain due to some ingrained sense of tact.

If Harry had been in her shoes he wouldn't have waited.

'I'm sorry,' he said, rolling awkwardly on the balls of his feet. He knew that Tonks had been Sirius's cousin.

Sirius nodded and with a flick of his wand the pan full of bacon moved to the middle of the table, along with three forks. Neither Harry nor his friends protested when Sirius made to go upstairs, but no sooner had he stepped over the threshold than there was a rattle and a rolled up paper that Harry quickly identified as a special edition of the Daily Prophet dropped out of the metal chute they'd made for that exact purpose.

'Damn, already? Hasn't even been an hour,' muttered Sirius as he picked it up. Harry, Ron and Hermione crowded behind him and Harry's eyes went straight to the list of the deceased. It had no particular order, as was expected of news that urgent, was likely incomplete and included both Muggles and wizards. He quickly skipped over the unfamiliar names and focused on the people he knew – or had known.

Hestia Jones
Emmeline Vance
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody
Nymphadora Tonks
Julian Granger
Bill Weasley

On either side of him, Hermione gasped and Ron went very still.

'I – er – I need to, um –'

Ron didn't finish and Harry looked up to see him running out of the room, and he didn't need to hear his pounding footsteps to know that he was going to Floo – whether to Hogwarts or to the Burrow, he wasn't sure.

He then turned to look at Hermione and wasn't surprised to see that her face was soaked in tears. Upon noticing his gaze, she let out a sob and stuck her face into his shoulder. Harry hugged her with one arm and directed her back to her chair, rubbing his palm over her shoulder, his throat aching with sympathy. There was two of them now.

Sirius slammed the paper down, his eyes glistening.

'This is –,' he shook his head, 'just – fuck.'

With that, he left the room. Harry pulled Hermione closer and encircled her with both arms, still trying to swallow down the uncomfortable lump in his throat.

...

Neither Harry nor Hermione had brought up the fact that they probably had to return to Hogwarts. The next morning Sirius came down to make them breakfast, still looking like death warmed over, but somehow less so.

Harry watched Hermione pick at her food, tears filling her eyes every now and then, and normally he would have asked if there was something wrong, but – well. Of course there was.

'I don't want to go back to Hogwarts.'

'What?'

Harry was sure he must have misheard. Hermione loved magic and he didn't think leaving it would help her process everything. If anything, she'd probably become more depressed.

Ignoring him, Hermione continued, 'But I don't want to go home, either.'

'Oh.' That, he could understand. When Cedric had died and Voldemort came back, Harry had wanted nothing more than to leave Hogwarts, and at that point he truly hadn't known which was preferable between the school and his relatives. 'I mean, you could live here. That is, if Sirius won't mind. Would you?' he asked, directing the question at his godfather, who'd been silent up until then, watching them both keenly.

Sirius sighed. 'Look, I hate to play the part of the responsible parent here, but what about your studies? You can't just give all that up.'

'Hogwarts has become a shitfest and I'm pretty sure Hermione could take the NEWTs now and receive "O"s in every subject. And you could homeschool us when you aren't working on the Horcruxes.'

Harry wouldn't have wanted to take away from Sirius' free time, but he had it on good authority that Sirius spent at least three hours every day doing nothing but listening to music. And considering there was only two of them, one of them Hermione, homeschool was really just a formality. True, they wouldn't be able to do Herbology and Care Of Magical Creatures, but Harry and Hermione were planning to drop those two subjects anyway. And Divination wasn't even worth talking about.

'And you think I'm a good teacher?' asked Sirius, the corners of his lips pulling up in a smile.

Harry answered with a grin of his own, 'McGonagall did call you and my dad "exceptionally bright". And that's McGonagall we're talking about. Tell me, how many "O"s did you get on your OWLs, fifteen?'

'Twelve, actually.' Sirius pretended to be flattered and actually blushed on purpose. 'Fine, I'll homeschool you.' His tone made it clear that he knew it was a formality just as well as Harry did.

'Thank you.' Then Harry remembered. 'Oh, by the way, I killed Wormtail.'

Sirius spat out his juice. 'What?'

'Yeah.' And then I had a breakdown in which I nearly fainted and vomited three times. Harry looked down. He knew Sirius would be only pleased, but what about Hermione? And was it even justified, killing someone, no matter how horrible a person they were? He knew that logically he had every right to do that, but he'd promised himself back in first year to never stoop down to Voldemort's level, and murder was cutting it a little too close. Dumbledore would definitely be disappointed.

'But Harry,' said Hermione with a frown in her voice, 'the Killing Curse takes a lot of power and no offence, but I'm not sure you could –'

'I didn't use that. I kind of threw him out of a window.'

Sirius looked like he would have spat his juice out again if he'd had any in his mouth.

'Remember how we thought there was a spy? It was him. I caught him right after you called me and cursed him when he was in front of an open window.'

'So he's the reason – right.'

Sirius cut himself off, but too late, because Hermione had started crying. Still, even with tears trailing down her cheeks, she was smiling as she said, 'Thank you for – well, thank you.'

Sirius nodded in agreement and then said jokingly, 'Would a chance to piss on his corpse be too much to ask for?'

...

Sirius had written Minerva and received a reply stating that she'd arrange for their things to be transported to Grimmauld Place, but that she'd miss teaching the two. According to Harry, Hermione had thrown herself into her studies as soon as she returned from a weeklong stay with her mother. Probably trying to distract herself. His godson had complained that she'd drawn up a schedule for every day down to the minute. Sirius thought that was a bit much. As long as they knew everything come OWLs, they should be fine.

At present the three of them were in the library, the two teenagers trying to master some Transfiguration spell that might be included in the exam and Sirius looking through the Darkest ritual book he could find in hopes that one of the rituals described might save Harry. He'd read nearly the whole book to no avail and had been about to give up when the doorbell rang.

'MUDBLOOD FILTH SOILING THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK –'

Having sprinted down the stairs, Sirius didn't even bother to yell at his mother to shut up and just closed the curtains with a bang. He opened the door to find Dumbledore standing on the doorstep. Harry and Hermione mumbled awkward greetings, but Sirius went straight to the point, 'Dumbledore, what do you need?'

Dumbledore smiled a grandfatherly smile that always made Sirius feel uneasy and greeted him, 'Sirius, may I come in?' Not waiting for an answer, the old man stepped forward and Sirius was forced to step aside so they wouldn't collide. He followed Dumbledore to the kitchen and watched warily as the latter sat himself at the table.

'Now, I have been informed of Harry and Miss Granger's situation, of course.'

Yeah, no shit Sherlock, it's been nearly two weeks. He exchanged glances with Harry, who'd taken a place behind Dumbledore, and the former shrugged, an incredulous expression playing at his face.

'Mr Longbottom also told me something rather interesting.'

Sirius growled, 'Get on with it, Dumbledore.' He'd forgotten just how annoying the whole dancing around the subject thing was.

Ignoring him, Dumbledore continued, 'He was walking to breakfast when he saw you, Harry, convulsing on a sofa.'

'What?'

All eyes turned to Harry, who coloured slightly and mumbled, 'I had a vision. That's why I came here despite you telling me to stay at Hogwarts. I saw Voldemort shoot a Killing Curse at you and I just – I couldn't –'

Sirius felt his expression soften and he replied, 'It's fine, Harry.' Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dumbledore's look and, realising what it meant, said immediately, 'No. Absolutely not.'

'There is no other way. Severus is a Master Occlumens.'

'I don't care, I will not have that overgrown bat anywhere near my godson! I may not be as good an Occlumens as him, but I'm proficient enough to teach Harry.'

Hermione muttered something to Harry that had him frown and mutter something back.

'My boy, I need you to see sense.'

'I'm his godfather. My word is final.'

Dumbledore sighed and stood up. 'I see that I can't change your mind.' He made to leave, but turned around and added, 'We need you. Would you –'

Sirius understood what Dumbledore was on about now and snapped, 'No. You fired me, live with it.'

Internally he was screaming in triumph. He'd promised to himself that he'd show them, and now here they were, crawling back. Served them right, Dumbledore and his merry band of suck-ups.

'But Sirius, don't you want to help?'

Ah yes, the guilt trip. Well, that was a classic that he'd been acquainted with before he could properly speak. I'm doing more to help than you ever did, thought Sirius and felt a smidge of shame niggle at him. He had found out from Regulus. If he hadn't, he'd still be thrashing about, angry but too depressed to do anything about it, stuck in the past with no future.

He didn't say all of that out loud, however. Instead he said, 'You know as well as I do that we don't stand a chance. All the best members were killed in the Granger Battle, Snape and McGonagall have Hogwarts, Molly and Arthur have their children and another grave, and the rest of them aren't good for anything more than guard duty.'

'That's why we need you,' said Dumbledore impatiently. 'As it stands, you're one of the best members we had. We can't afford to lose you.'

'You already have,' Sirius replied coldly. 'Besides, what would you have me do? Guard that dilapidated shack and hope that Voldemort doesn't come by to take his important possession which is totally not a Hor –'

'Sirius!'

Outwardly Dumbledore appeared calm as ever, but Sirius saw a flicker of alarm in his eyes and his insides screamed with glee. Ever since he'd gone to Hogwarts and up until his leaving the Order, he'd always felt like a subordinate talking to his superior whenever he was with the headmaster. But now it was clear that he was in charge and Dumbledore had no choice but to submit. The latter sent a glance in the direction of Harry and Hermione, who'd stopped muttering to each other and looked up, and Sirius said, 'Don't worry, I told them.'

Dumbledore glanced at Harry again and for a moment his face looked older than it ever had before. That was when it hit Sirius; Dumbledore knew. As they met eyes, he asked, 'Have you found a way?'

Dumbledore shook his head gravely and said, 'So, about the –'

'I'm not going back,' Sirius snapped. 'Between homeschooling these two and and the Horcruxes, I can't afford to waste any more time.'

The old man nodded, 'I see. Would you mind sharing your progress?'

Sirius didn't see the harm in that, so he answered, 'Two. You?'

'None, but I have a promising lead.'

'The house,' he guessed. 'Inform me if you find another one?'

'Of course, my boy. Well, I'll be taking my leave.'

Without any other words, he left.

'So what was that all about?' asked Harry, dropping all pretence of not paying attention the moment the door banged shut.

'Dumbledore wanted Snape to teach you Occlumency because of your dream and he knows about the Horcruxes.'

'I gathered that much,' said Harry, nodding. 'But Snape?' Harry's tone betrayed his outrage.

Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. 'No, I can see why he would do that. It makes sense, because, for all his faults, Snape is a very good Occlumens. That doesn't mean I have to like it, though.'

Harry continued frowning, so Sirius added, 'But I'll be continuing to teach you now, so cheer up. Have you two been doing your mind exercises?'

...

A/N: "But now it was clear that he was in charge and Dumbledore had no choice but to submit" oh Lord. I amaze myself.