Harry sat in the whited out version of his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, his legs pulled up to his chest. The dreamscape was not entirely white again, grey specks filtering in through the light as he waited for Jax to show up, wondering what was taking his friend so long. He glanced down at his hands, seeing them shake.

He had passed right out the minute he had gotten in bed, or at least, the bed at Grimmauld Place. And… after yelling at his friends. He sighed and scrubbed his hands together, wondering why they had taken Dumbledore's word so easily. They hadn't spoken a word of what was going on to him. They had sent a few letters but… They were filled with nothing about Voldemort, nothing about what was going on in the wizarding world.

For all Harry knew, the wizarding world could have been at war already. Voldemort could have attacked the ministry or even Hogwarts. But nooo… No information about that. And here he was, feeling as caged in as Sirius was. He was 15 and stuck between having seen Voldemort rise right in front of his very eyes, having been tortured by the Cruciatus curse and still being considered a kid.

"Harry?"

"Over here," Harry called, looking up and watching as Jax appeared in the doorway.

Jax's eyes were bright and wide, pride filling his whole body. His kutte no longer had the prospect patch on it; instead it had Redwood Original on the front and SAMCRO on the side. There was a difference to how Jax walked now, as Harry watched him, more of a swagger than a walk now. Jax was about to turn 17 and apparently he was a fully patched in member of the Sons of Anarchy.

Harry idly wondered if Jax was the youngest member of the club but then shrugged that thought off.

"I suppose congratulations are in order?" Harry asked finally, as Jax stood in front of him.

"Thanks. I was patched in yesterday," Jax offered, grinning widely, turning around to show off the back of his kutte. "There was a patch party and all that."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the patch, seeing the words Sons of Anarchy, MC flashing from the leather. The reaper seemed to stare at him, holding a scythe in its skeletal fingers, and then California underneath it. "Whoa."

"Yep."

Harry snorted and Jax turned back around, a smug glint in his eyes.

"So… how is it in… wherever the fuck this is?" Jax asked, peering around at the greyed out bedroom around them.

"It's Sirius' family's home," Harry explained, shrugging as Jax came over to sit next to him on the bed. "Old, ancestral kind of thing. His family was… not a good one. Racist as all hell."

"One of those then. Why are you here? Did your dogfather finally get cleared of the charges?"

"Nah. Dementors ambushed me and my cousin in Privet Drive. I'm here because the ministry is accusing me of underage magic and magic in front of a muggle."

Jax just stared at him for a half a minute, his eyes tightening, and then slowly shook his head disbelievingly. "You were just defending yourself. Fucking politics."

"Yeah. The current minister is… uh… something else too," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. "He's hellbent on denying Voldemort's return. I read the last couple of papers. They all call me a liar."

"Fuck."

"You can say that again."

Harry looked over the book in front of him, sitting on his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory cross legged, pondering the runes he wanted. The knife that Jax had given him sat on his left knee, clean and shiny and sharp. The hilt of it was definitely shorter than the hilt of the sword of Gryffindor but it had enough room for two, maybe three runes. Maybe he could even fit four on the metal, if he drew small enough.

The book was full of scribbles, all by different hands, evidence that it was not from the Hogwarts library. No one would be caught dead writing in one of their textbooks. Harry grinned a little at the thought, idly flipping through the book again. It was one of several he had 'borrowed' from the Black library, having grown bored enough during the rest of his summer holiday to go through the house. And Molly hadn't caught him flipping through any of them luckily.

He traced his finger over the current page, stopping to listen as someone entered the dorm and rummaged through their trunk, before continuing on. His curtains were pulled shut and at this point, everyone else knew to knock on them before poking their head in.

His eyes landed on a few runes and he grinned at them, trailing his fingers over the hilt of the knife. One to bind the knife to him, make sure it couldn't be used against him. One to get it to come back to his hand when he called it, if it got lost. Another rune to make the knife unbreakable and stay sharp.

Harry nodded to himself and peered out through his curtains, bending over to pick up another book from under his bed. His left hand ached at the movement, the skin still raw even though Hermione had let him use some ditany. I must not tell lies. Harry flinched at the sight, trailing his fingers over the raw skin.

Jax walked into what looked like a classroom, or at least a classroom in their shared dreamscape. And it definitely wasn't one that he was familiar with, either in Charming High School or Hogwarts. The greyish mist that surrounded it was more vivid than usual as a few practice dummies appeared in the center of it. The dark figures towered over Jax as they seemed to glare at them.

"Harry?"

"Yeah. I'm here," Harry responded, sitting over by the wall opposite him. He was sitting on a chair, his shoulders curled inward, cradling his left arm close to his chest almost idly.

Jax wandered over to Harry's side and peered at his friend, his eyes catching on the smudged over raw skin on his left hand. I must not tell lies. "What the fuck, Harry."

"Blood quills are really self explanatory," Harry retorted, scowling and then sighing.

Jax flinched and pulled Harry's left arm out so that he could look at it. It really did look like writing, like Harry's writing but… "I gave you the knife so you could… defend yourself."

Harry blinked up at him and then rolled his eyes, anger making his eyes dark. It was clear though that that anger wasn't directed at Jax. "You think I did this to myself? I didn't. Well, technically I did. But… I was forced to by Umbridge, the new defense against the dark arts professor."

"It's gotten bad again, huh?"

"It's not gotten quite that bad, Jax. Besides… Umbridge doesn't know we're practicing spells without her. So… We're doing it out of spite really. Well, spite and the need for knowledge."

Jax laughed even as anger boiled in the pit of his stomach. "Umbridge was the bitch at your trial, wasn't she?"

"Yep. Hermione thinks Fudge sent her as a spy," Harry said, grimacing in thought and eying Jax's fingers on his hand. "They think Dumbledore's been undermining Fudge as a minister."

Jax immediately pulled his hand away and began to pace, walking the several feet between the walls of the dreamscape. "What's she doing?"

"A better question would probably be what isn't she doing. We're not supposed to be doing any magic in her classes," Harry retorted, his eyes darkening. He watched Jax pace and then reached into the pocket of one of his sleep pants, drawing out his knife. "Magic is forbidden. Apparently there is no one out to kill us and Voldemort isn't actually back and I'm a lying liar who lies."

Jax snorted. "And an attention whore."

Harry nodded, his lips twitching up in amusement at Jax's words. "Yep. So I'm teaching everyone who wants to actually learn how to defend themselves."

Jax smiled in approval, watching as Harry stood up, the knife that he had given his friend in his hands. Harry idly flipped it around in his hands and then presented the hilt to him, letting Jax have a look at the newly painted runes. Harry reached out to curl his fingers into Jax's, tracing both their fingers over the hilt of the knife.

"That's to make sure no one can use this against me," Harry explained, entwining their fingers over the first rune, tracing the shape of it.

Jax shivered as he trailed his fingers over the rune, wondering how it would feel in reality. He could feel the faint ripple of something, something brushing against his fingers. Something cool and yet familiar, reminding him of how it had felt to wake up with a newly healed arm almost ten years ago. His arm had been sensitive for that whole week after Harry had 'accidentally' healed his arm.

"What…" Jax paused suddenly, his voice dry even though they normally didn't feel anything in their dreamscape. "What are the other runes for?"

Harry eyed him for a moment before drawing Jax's fingers over the others, explaining each one. "I've been trying to find time to practice when I'm awake, in this room."

"And which room would that be? I'm pretty fuckin' sure I've seen a lot of the rooms at your castle," Jax commented, after Harry tucked his knife back in a pocket. "Even if it is just here in our dreams."

"It's the Room of Requirement. You gotta pass back and forth in front of it three times and then it moves, changes, to what you want it to be. It's where we meet to practice spells. It's a classroom one minute, a toilet the next-"

At Jax's amused expression, Harry grinned. "Don't ask. It's just whatever someone needs it to be."

"You fine with me telling Tara about you?" Jax asked, settling in to sit on a dream bike, the frame of it white and grey.

Harry stood in front of him, arms crossed as he stared at him. "If you keep out any mention of magic, sure. It's against the law to tell people, non magical people, about magic. And it could put her in danger. Just tell her that I'm a friend. A penpal."

"Hey, no chick moments here. I don't have a penpal."

Harry snorted and flicked his forehead, seeing Jax grin in response. "We're both asleep, idiot. No one can see us here. Besides… it's not like you have an actual penpal. It's not like I'm gonna send Hedwig your way multiple times a month. She wouldn't like that."

"She's capable of making the international trip? She ain't like a normal owl then."

Harry shook his head. "Magical owls can fly further and faster than normal owls. They also know right where you are. It's like they have a magical gps. Internal and all that. She even knew where Padfoot was. Even I didn't know that before this year."

The second time that Harry had an occlumency 'lesson' with Snape, he could see the memories flashing by as Snape rifled through them. Harry flinched and scrambled around mentally, frantically trying to push the man out and not…

"Potter, surely you can do better than that," Snape drawled, his voice low and unimpressed. "I know you think you're the best in this school and yet…"

Harry scowled and tried to think better, faster, than-

"Ahaha, who is that? He doesn't look like anyone I know of, Potter. He looks like a bully, just like I knew you'd be-"

"Get out!" Harry yelled, mentally building a wall, a fierce looking stone thing that wouldn't catch on fire, that wouldn't be easy to get through, around his memories of Jax. Around everything to do with his best friend, from the shared dreams to practicing with the knife that Jax had given him. He closed his eyes, shuffled around mentally for Snape's presence, his magic and shoved. Shoved him out like a catapult, curling his own magic around the man's and flinging him out. "And stay the fuck out of my mind."

Harry opened his eyes even as he heard Snape yelp as he was physically thrown back, his dark eyes going wide. "Well, well-"

"You are such a hypocrite," Harry muttered, shaking his head even though it felt like drums were going off in his mind. He felt exhausted, like he had just run a mile, like he had just played a really good game of quidditch. Or like he had just played a really bad game of quidditch as he rubbed his temples, trying to will his heart to slow down. "Calling someone you've never met a bully and bullying me and all the other non Slytherin students. I haven't even learned how to shield my mind yet!"

Snape just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing. Harry glared at him, looked right into the man's eyes and brushed across his memories, seeing a flash of red hair and bright green eyes. Familiar green eyes, the shade of his own eyes. Harry's own eyes widened and he stood up on shaky legs.

"I'm gonna practice this on my own, got it? 'Cause clearly you're not gonna help," Harry added, scowling at the man once more before turning and walking right out of Professor Snape's office.

"Jax Teller, you're a bad influence."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

Jax snorted, smirking over at Harry as the other boy came to stand in front of him. The dreamscape spread out over a gun range, with grey targets laid out several feet before them.

"Yelled at Snape," Harry explained, grinning faintly.

"What did the asshole do now?"

"He's 'teaching' me how to guard my mind," Harry muttered. "Or bullying me into it. Something like that. I called him a hypocrite."

Jax laughed and patted him on his shoulder. "Good."

Harry rolled his eyes even as he grinned at him and reached into his pocket for the dream version of his knife. "You tell Tara about me?"

"Nah, not yet. Needs to be the right time. We're kind of… off at the moment. She's avoiding me."

Jax gripped his ghostly version of a gun tighter at the thought and then shot off a dream bullet. Harry didn't even flinch at the sight or at the sound, as muted as it was. His hands curled around the hilt of his knife a little tighter, the words on his left hand a little redder.

Harry flipped around the knife in his palm before throwing it at his own target. It landed just a few inches shy of where he had wanted it to go, the bullseye. "On and off again? That's how it works?"

"With Tara, yeah. You have any girl you like?"

Harry shrugged as they faced each other briefly, looking Jax over tentatively, letting his eyes stop on Jax's shoulders and chest, even though his friend had a black hoodie on. Over the past several years, both of them had shown up shirtless in their shared dream space and Harry hadn't thought much of it. He forcefully picked up his gaze to look back into Jax's eyes, refocusing on the conversation. "Too much on my mind. Luna though… she's pretty. I was considering Malfoy for a hot minute but… he's irritating. And he called Hermione a mudblood back in second year."

Jax laughed at the thought. "You think boys are…"

Harry tilted his head in confusion for a minute before slowly smiling. "Yeah. I don't think I'm straight. You?"

Jax stared at him for a moment, his blue eyes intense, before turning back to the target ahead of him, rubbing the back of his neck. Harry was about to fling his ghost knife again, it having reappeared in his hand because this was a dream, when Jax opened his mouth.

"I did a few things with Ope," Jax offered quietly, his cheeks reddening and crossing his arms defensively. "Handjobs. Maybe a blowjob here and there. It's not anything… It's no big deal. I'm not gay."

Harry nodded idly, not pushing for more, not when Jax was uncomfortable, and watched as Jax took another shot at his target again. The dream bullet hit the mark, going right through the straw target on bullseye. Harry curled his fingers over his ghostly knife, made sure his fingers were adjusted properly, according to the many nights and weekends he had practiced, and flicked his wrist.

The knife went flying straight and true, ending up right over Jax's bullet hole.

"I'm gonna practice on my own," Harry said, shrugging in thought. "I brought a couple books from the Black family library with me. Maybe dip into advanced magic. Now that Umbridge isn't gonna teach us anything. Besides, we still have exams at the end of the year."

Jax nodded in approval and reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "Might as well."

"Why the fuck not, right?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he looked down at his arms, seeing the fine hairs there standing up as well. His magic flared in warning, stretched out to its' limit even though he had been practicing more and more at night. His heart beat like a horse's galloping hooves and he turned around to see Lucius Malfoy dueling with Sirius.

It felt to him like time was moving very, very slowly, letting him look around at the chamber that he and his friends had fallen into. The members of the Order of the Phoenix were dueling the Death Eaters that had shown up, spells being cast at rapid speeds between duelers.

He watched as Sirius dueled Lucius, dodging bright red spells and sickly colored spells. Saw Bellatrix Lestrange out of the corner of his eye, raising her wand right at Sirius Black. Harry twitched at the first word that came out of her mouth and pulled out the knife that Jax had given him with ease, held it between his fingers, and then flicked his wrist.

Time seemed to speed up or his heart slowed down as his knife flew truly, impaling itself right in Bellatrix's head with a loud, wet thump. Silence echoed around the chamber as Bellatrix keeled over right onto the dirt, right before the ghostly veil. Her body floated upward, feet first into the veil, and Harry held out his hand, calling his knife back.

It slid out of the body with a wet squelch and sped right back into his palm.

Ron and Hermione and Neville all looked at him strangely, like he had grown a second head. Like he was a stranger. Ginny and Luna didn't at all look at him strangely though. Ginny only nodded, something passing between them that made Harry think she was okay with having witnessed… what they had just seen. And Luna was Luna.

Bellatrix's body disappeared into the veil as if it hadn't existed in the first place.

And then Voldemort appeared.

"Harry."

"Yeah, Sirius?" Harry turned to look at his godfather, more than a little wary. He had tucked his knife back into its sheath and then pocketed it after cleaning it of Bellatrix's blood.

Sirius stared at him, his dark eyes questioning, his mouth tight. "You killed her."

"Yeah. I did. She was about to kill you."

"Harry, you killed someone," Remus said, his eyes narrowed, his voice full of judgement.

"I killed Professor Quirrell when I was 11," Harry remarked quietly, looking between his godfather and Remus. "I was tortured and nearly killed in that graveyard last year. I'm only 15 but it feels like I'm… older. I don't give a shit about Bellatrix Lestrange. She tried to kill you, Sirius, and she tortured Neville's parents into insanity. I don't care that I killed her. I heard her say the first word of the killing curse. I've nearly been killed at least once per year now."

Remus paled at his words but still looked…

"Remus, it wasn't your fault that time," Harry added wryly. "You weren't yourself. But… Qurriell tried to kill me. Moody tried to kill me. Lockhart tried to obliviate me and Ron. Voldemort has tried to kill me multiple times. And probably will again. Suck it up."

Remus spluttered, opening his mouth and closing it.

"So… thanks for the knife."

"You used it?" Jax asked, peering over at him faintly, checking him over.

"I'm fine. And yes, I used it. I killed Bellatrix."

Jax nodded and Harry shrugged, as he sat down next to him. Harry leaned against Jax's shoulder and the other boy just made more room for him as they stood in the ghostly dream equivalent of the clubhouse's chapel. Harry walked over to sit in one of the chairs that sat around the table, tracing his fingers over the great wooden table that sat in the center of the room.

"That's some reaper," Harry muttered, swiveling around in the rolling chair that sat to the left of what was the president's chair. "You wanna be president some day?"

"I don't know," Jax said, watching him move. "I just barely got done prospecting."

Harry shrugged and turned around to look at his best friend. Jax returned the look, his blond hair longer than it had been the last time they had shared a dream. Jax's dream kutte looked a little worn around the edges, the patches still standing out vividly.

"What the fuck is it with professors who like to treat me as a trophy?" Harry asked, raising his voice and glaring at the wall of the ghostly Burrow.

Jax shrugged. "I'd have thought you would like the attention."

Harry lifted an eyebrow and Jax held his silence for a minute before a smile grew on his face, all lopsided. Harry laughed, letting his body relax as Jax came over to bump shoulders with him.

"I swear to Merlin, being the Boy Who Lived and the 'Chosen One' isn't all it's cracked up to be," Harry muttered, falling down onto the dream version of the grass and dirt.

"You sure I can't hop a plane and join you?"

"You have a passport?"

"No. I could get one."

"Jax, it's too dangerous."

"Even for me?"

Harry nodded and sighed. "Even for you. I'm not at the Dursleys so there's that. And I'm Captain of the Quidditch team this next year."

"Hey, I'm finally friends with a sports captain," Jax teased.

Harry snorted and flicked Jax's shoulder, amusement curling beneath his ribs. "And I'm friends with an American biker. I don't know which one of those Aunt Petunia would have more of a fit over."

"Definitely the biker part," Jax answered, grinning bemusedly.

"Definitely."