I am sooo unbelievably sorry. Through a series of most unfortunate events (namely, a C in Algebra & a grounding for lying about having been on fanfiction and having it consequently placed on the list of restricted sites at my school, which will hopefully be remedied by the end of the month) which nearly included the monitor being unplugged from the computer, the posting of this has been postponed. This is horrible. Long, but horrible. Which means you should like it. And you WILL review, as I am miserable because my parents are horrible people and I'm studying all hours of the day for an entrance exam to the high school in 2 weeks.sigh. Stuck with a horrid old fart all Sunday afternoon. So cheer me up. I may never get to read them, but I lied to my parents to post this. So humour me. See how I love you. And the movie depressed me to no end.horrible, that. Must give it a lousy review for school newspaper (for which I would have been copy editor had they not misprinted my C+ as a D+. Actually, Mr. Fairey wouldn't have let me on then either, but I can dream and attribute it to a misprint in the Guidance office rather than my stupidity, right? Hehe). That is on my to-do list, as well as this bloody math diagnostic.grr. I hate maths. And my parents. But I love reviewers. Make my day.please? (Note: This is unedited and the first 10 parts are in for a major rehaul.no exorcist this time 'round, sweeties!) Love you all! Beijos!

This could conceivably be made more difficult, Harry thought, his mind feeling very cluttered. Having determined that Fred and George were gone, he had gone to History of Magic, his first class of the day. He was, miraculously, the first person there. He guessed everyone was still on his or her way to breakfast. He took a seat in the back, not wanting people to stare at him all the time.

"Move, Potter," ordered George. "These seats are ours. No Death Eaters welcome."

"No."

"Look, get up, you stupid son of a bitch-" began Fred, taking a more direct route.

"What did you just call me?"

"A son of a bitch."

Harry got up and pinned the bigger boy against the wall, his fist connecting solidly with his face.

"Potter! Sit down! 15 points from Gryffindor!" reprimanded Binns, floating through the wall.

"Never say that in front of me again," he hissed, sitting back down.

The twins flipped him off when Binns was looking elsewhere. The odds that this was going to be a good day were looking less promising.

Binns droned on and on about goblin rebellions and the patterns of history.

Harry felt his lack of restful sleep catching up with him..his head dropped forward on the desk, his hair falling in the inkwell without him noticing, and he fell asleep.

"POTTER! DETENTION!" For someone with so little body substance, Binns (no apostrophe) certainly could yell. "Report to Filch's office at eight o'clock tonight, sharp!"

He managed to stay awake for the rest of class, although Binns (and again) piled about seven hours of homework on them, but they wouldn't see him for another week, so he would hopefully have time to finish it all. It seemed, so far, that with seventh year, they had more time between classes, and a week between each one, thus, the heavy workload didn't pose a problem because of the fact that they didn't see the same professor more than once in a week.

After what seemed eons to Harry, class was dismissed. He scowled back at Binns.

Flitwick's class wasn't any better. They were practicing the basic principles of Apparition, and attempting to disassemble small objects and put them back together. This would eventually be incorporated with the concept of Portkeys, which they were going to practice making after everyone had successfully completed the task at hand.

Harry, to his great frustration, had only managed to make loud noises and spin around.

"Honestly, Potter! If Dumbledore thinks enough of you to place you in this class, you should be able to at least perform the most elementary spell we're learning this year!"

Fred, George, and the rest of the class snickered.

"You're practically a Squib! You won't make it through your OWLs, much less your NEWTs!!! It's a miracle how you made it into Hogwarts in the first place! Your escaping You-Know-Who was sheer luck."

Harry immediately thought that Flitwick either had connections in international drug traffic, or a severe case of PMS. Flitwick was normally quite a well-tempered person, and very patient. Although he's right about the last one. He stared at the desk blindly, trying to get control of the raging sea of anger within him. Anger at being doubted, and anger at being powerless to do anything about it.

The mocking sniggers soon turned into a full-fledged outbreak of mirthful laughter as a very audible POP caused Harry to look up from the desk. The sight of Flitwick with a mop of purple hair (rather resembling a puppet from Jim Henson's Fraggle Rock) greeted him.

"What? What?" he asked desperately. He grabbed Harry's glasses off his face and adjusted them to get a reflection of himself in the smooth (if somewhat unclean) surface. "POTTER! What is the meaning of this?!?" he bellowed furiously.

"Oops?" suggested Harry.

"You-undo this right now or."

"I can try." He concentrated very hard on the purple and willed it back to normal, but to no avail. There were several comical noises (which included a cow mooing and something that sounded like a whoopee cushion) and Flitwick's hair went from purple to bright silver with streaks of green, to pure green, to orange, to pink, to red, to bright turquoise and to lilac, before finally settling on the vivid violet it had been before. "Er, sorry."

"Detention!" shouted Flitwick. "Tonight! Eight to twelve, with Filch!"

Yes, now I won't be doing multiple detentions.just one communal one.

"Professor, Potter already got a detention with Filch at that time tonight," Alicia volunteered sweetly, waving her hand around.

"Then stay until four!" he barked. "Occasionally, a blind squirrel finds an acorn in the middle of winter! Be that squirrel, Potter! Get lucky!" He was very angry.he had just had a Slytherin class, and had stayed up doing lesson plans all last night.

"You suck, Potter!" shouted Lee Jordan.

Everyone jeered, and insults were flung at him right and left.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouted, gathering his things and running out. He slammed the door behind him, leaving a stunned silence.

He ran down the hall for some distance, pausing at a painting that he knew from the Marauder's Map to be concealing a room that he hoped few people knew about.

It depicted a naked lady on a horse. "Er, there's a secret passage back there, right?"

"That is correct. Who addresses me?"

"My name is Harry Potter."

"I am.the original, mind you, Lady Godiva."

"Oh. Lady.will you let me pass?"

"You seem pleasant enough.why not?" She swung open.

"Thank you." He climbed in and she closed.

He slumped tiredly against the wall. This wasn't going well at all. (It rhymes! Hehe.) Fred and George had seemingly turned the rest of the year against him. Binns and Flitwick hated him, as well. And the dreams.His eyes closed again, and he drifted off.

More knives. More ropes. Stones. Holes, deep in the ground. Lions. A spear to defend himself from the beast. A spear digging into his flesh. Arrows piercing his skin. Animals clawing him.

He awoke with a start, sweating and shaking. He looked around, ensuring that nothing posed a threat, then he looked down at his hands, which were aching. They were covered in blood.

But.I wasn't in their world.how.?

This couldn't be good.

He left the room and went to Dumbledore's office, as he'd been thinking of doing.

"Enter. Harry, shouldn't you be in class?"

He shrugged.

"Go."

"Sir.I had some dreams."

"About Voldemort?"

"I don't think so. And it didn't look like their world, either. There were lots of different places."

"And what took place in these dreams?"

"I'm not sure, but there was lots of blood involved." He rolled up his sleeve and displayed the arm with which he had attempted to fend off the lion after the spear had been smashed.

"Weapons?"

"Um.knives and stuff."

Dumbledore sighed distractedly. "You're coming to me for answers?"

"That would seem to be the case," he said, nodding.

"Any theories on your own?"

"Other than the fact that it probably has something to do with Necromancy? No."

"Nick would have said something if it was a usual side effect."

"Maybe it's not?" he suggested, rather sarcastically.

Dumbledore frowned. "Obviously. Which means, we have a bit of research to do."

He stood and walked to the bookcase, which wrapped around much of the study.

An Illustrated History of Weaponry. He took it down and placed it in front of Harry. "Try to identify what you've seen in your dreams from looking at that.I need a timeframe."

Harry started from the beginning, and only recognized them for about a page or two before they were unfamiliar. He didn't disrupt Dumbledore, however, he seemed very focused on large volumes, which he was skimming and then throwing aside.

Greek.Celtic.Norse.Middle Eastern.African.South American.Japanese.Chinese.Korean.Native American.Damn it. He threw aside another book of mythologies.

"Harry, do heaven and hell exist?"

"I don't think so.it all seemed cold .no fiery furnaces as of yet." He shrugged. "I don't think I've seen much, though."

"Damn it!" he said aloud.

Harry looked at him, stunned. He'd never heard the Headmaster curse.

"Damn it!" he repeated. "Yes, I swear, too, Harry." He threw them all to the floor in a heap, very frustrated. "There HAS to be something in one of these, but they all have distinguishers for the sinners and the holy.except the Norse, with their Hall."

"Yeah, and then they all get killed again in the end. Have you tried some different writings? Perhaps more reliable sources than the oracle at Delphi?"

"But Gryffindor didn't write dealing with the land of the dead." he said, looking at Harry piercingly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you quite certain?"

"Harry."

"Because I somehow don't think you are," he said, meeting his gaze with an equally, if not more so, penetrating one.

"Fine!" he said, standing up. "Here. All his works. Where does it deal with the world of the dead?"

"Welsh, right?"

"I wasn't aware you could read it."

"Neither was I. Okay, look.'The purest of soul shall guard the gates of death and return all pleasant memories to the world. The darkest shall absorb hate and evil to lighten the rest and allow them to rest in peace as they seek to corrupt the powerful through the influence of Seers and dreams.when the post is ready to be assumed by another party, the horrific experiences will be transferred to the new guardian.'"

"Nicolas did say something about that!" said Dumbledore triumphantly.

"Of course he did. He is the Light guardian.for now."

"Yes, he's holding it for me," he said laughingly.

"He's rather tired of it.wants to see his wife."

"All right. So the Dark one is-"

"Slytherin?" Dumbledore guessed, at the same time that Harry said,

"Grindlewald?"

"I don't know, Harry."

"But.he spoke to me.controlled the others." his face furrowed with ostensible concentration as he tried to figure this out.

"And what did the others do?"

"They tried to kill me, he stopped them."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Could he be getting tired of being the guardian?"

"Not unlikely."

"Grindlewald mentored Thomas Riddle. I wouldn't be surprised if Lord Voldemort received the position."

"If he ever dies."

"He will, it's just a matter of time. Now.wouldn't it make sense that Grindlewald would be interested in protecting both his apprentice and himself?"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps he's attempting to transfer some of his memories to you."

"He wants me to be the guardian?" That would be hell.

"What weapons were in your dreams?"

"The ones on the first page."

"Primitive.very interesting. So it would seem that he's starting from the beginning."

"Wait. I'm going to have to see every death?"

"It would seem to be the case."

"But-I can't-"

"You must. Harry, you've got a ways ahead of you. It's not going to be easy."

That was hard to figure out, he thought sarcastically. Might as well kill myself now and get it over with. To his great surprise, he didn't hear a reply from the headmaster to this last thought.

Dumbledore sighed again, apparently wrapped up in his own thoughts. "You're due back in classes. Try not to fall asleep."

He nodded.

"And any dreams about Voldemort."

"Yeah." He left.

"You did WHAT?" exclaimed Sirius.

"You know as well as I do there's no chance of coming off better in this war without him!"

"He's fifteen!" he shouted. "He's still a boy! You can't drop this on him like that!"

"He seems fine with it."

"Looks can be deceiving!"

"I'm of the opinion that Harry is a very capable young man."

"That's what you always say, to everyone! Yes, I think he's responsible, yes, he can probably handle the work, but you can't expect him to fight Voldemort!"

"I don't expect him to fight him. That decision will be his own."

"That shouldn't even be an option! He shouldn't know about any of this until he's at least seventeen-old enough to think about these things and their consequences!"

"The sooner we prepare him, the better."

"So you're going to try to put everything in his head in the hope that he'll be able to cope with it like an adult!"

"It can't hurt."

"He is NOT an adult! We should NOT treat him as such! He is a CHILD! He can NOT fight Voldemort! You can NOT try to make him grow faster than he's ready for! A child should not combat the most powerful wizard since Slytherin himself!"

"Harry is no ordinary child."

"You don't think I know that? He's my fucking GODSON, for God's sakes. Of course he's extraordinary!"

"Not merely in the parental sense, Sirius."

"I vehemently object to Harry having any part in this!"

"You'd rather have them twist his abilities to their own use and have him turn because he can't use them to resist?"

"I'd rather neither he nor them know about these at all!"

"He's ready, or they wouldn't have come to him. I've been watching, Sirius, and it is time."

"NO! It CAN'T be! He's not ready!"

"He isn't?"

"Fine! I'm not ready! I won't let him have any part in it!"

"You, my friend, are a felon and powerless to stop it."

"This is blackmail!"

"Legally, you have no part in this."

"But-you have NO right to do this."

"Quite the contrary. I think you forget that Lily and James placed any decisions regarding his care in my hands."

"But-" he stuttered. "You can't use him as a weapon.he's a person too."

"And I will ask him if he's certain he wants to do this, as my thoughts would be geared more towards his training as opposed to his well- being, which is central right now.that will still be a concern, however, I'll have to explain to him that the training is strictly business." He sighed. "He'll have to go to you or Remus for advice. But I can't train him.I don't know nearly enough about it."

"Good."

"No, it's not. Watch him, Sirius. See how he acts. If anything's amiss, I need to know."

"Why?"

"Just do it."



Potions. Just perfect. He was still scowling when he walked into the dungeons.

"You're late."

"What of it?" he challenged, taking an empty table in the back of the room.

"Don't give me lip, Potter. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention. Tonight. Eight to twelve."

"He has one already!" chorused the class.

"Twelve to four."

"Then too!"

"Four to eight. AM."

Sniggers from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Of course, the seventh years were paired with Slytherin. It seemed everyone hated him.

"Now, since you're so clever you belong with seventh years-what is the active ingredient in the-"

He said the name of something Harry couldn't pronounce, much less answer the question preceding it.

"What is the point of asking me questions I don't know the answer to?" said Harry, very slowly. He was tired of this.

"The point, Potter, is to prove just how ignorant you are. You thought you could waltz in here and skyrocket to the top of the class. May I remind you of the fact that you were at rock bottom in your previous timeslot-excluding Longbottom?"

"You just did."

"That's another ten points."

"Taking points away from my house isn't going to stop me. I've put up with your crap long enough, and, quite personally, I couldn't care less if you want to penalize them. They all hate me anyway, so what difference does it make to me? I don't want to be associated with any of the people in this room. Their negative sentiments are returned wholeheartedly."

"So, Potter, you've turned your back on everyone now?"

"What makes you think I'd tell you that?"

"The fact that I'm your professor."

"Well, half the seventh year is in the room. And even if I did choose to disclose that information to you, I wouldn't do it in this setting."

"Veritaserum, Potter."

"Blatant abuse of professorship, Snape."

"Professor Snape."

"Slimy bastard."

There were several laughs at that.

"Quiet! One hundred points from Gryffindor!"

There was a stunned silence. That had to be a record number of points lost-except for in Harry's first year, but that had been fifty points from each student involved, hardly out of the ordinary.

Snape then did something he'd never done before. "Class dismissed. If I hear any cheering, it's all of you back here for detention tomorrow night. Potter, you're staying with me until I see fit to release you."

People shot him several looks on their way out-which he interpreted as meaning things as varied as thanks a lot for those points, Potter, to YES!! We're out early! Thanks! to stupid ass, what were you thinking, cussing out Snape to several other much nastier things from the Weasley twins.

"Answer my question, Potter. Are you turning on your housemates?"

"When the world turns it's back on you, you turn your back on the world." Damn, where did that come from?

"Coward."

"Hakuna Matata." Stop! Whoever the hell you are, stop it!

"Come again?"

"It means no worries.shit."

"I have no patience for your games. What exactly is the cause of the rift between you and your friends?"

"I have no friends."

"So what's Black?"

"None of your business."

"Quite the contrary. It is my business."

"So you can do what? Take it straight to Voldemort?"

"Lord Voldemort," he said softly, "is not my master. I am my own master.I owe debts to several people on the Light side, and I fully intend to pay them. I have devoted my life to the extermination of Darkness, Harry.what we say here stays here, understood?"

"You're not running to Dumbledore telling him what a warped psycho I am?"

"You're not running to Voldemort telling him I'm a rat."

"No."

"Good. I have no intention of telling Professor Dumbledore anything you may disclose to me, if you wish to keep it private. Obviously, that doesn't apply to anything that might be happening as a result of the Necromancy-"

"You know?"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," he snapped.

Harry muttered something about fruitcakes fucking their mother's bananas, which Snape thought didn't belong in a PG13 fanfic. He pretended not to have heard it.

"Let's get something straight. I don't like you. I think you're an arrogant, insolent fool-"

"Good. I feel the same."

"But the Headmaster has made it crystal clear that we're going to have to work together eventually, like it or not."

"Not."

"My thoughts exactly. But, for the greater good, I would save your miserable, worthless, life-no matter what my personal thoughts were."

"When you say for the greater good you mean-"

"On Dumbledore's orders. And let me impress on you the importance of following his every command-"

"You will kindly remember, sir, that I am not a puppet."

"But you are underage, and your academic career as well as any job prospects hinge on Professor Dumbledore's decisions concerning you-"

"One of those cost me the fine motor skills in my left arm," he snapped.

"Meaning?"

"Never mind."

"Tell me, Potter."

"Not a chance."

Snape grabbed his arm and rolled up his sleeve, getting his first good glimpse at Potter's arm. "Jesus Christ," he whispered, seeing the twisted limb and scarred flesh. "What happened?"

Harry struggled to jerk his arm out of Snape's grasp, but failed miserably, as he had trouble working it below the elbow.

"Who did this to you?"

"None of your business."

"Quite the contrary. I'm going to ask you again. Who did this to you?"

"I'm going to answer you again. None of your business."

"Your uncle."

"Whatever would make you say that?."

"This is serious, Potter."

"If anyone honestly thought that, they could have done something about it."

"I'm about to. We're going to the Headmaster."

"NO! Anywhere but there!"

"I thought you were his favorite student."

"I don't know! I don't care! I do not want to go to the Headmaster's office!"

"I didn't ask you what you wanted."

"Unless you want Filch to be scraping you off the floor, I suggest you let go of my arm," he hissed.

"Do you seriously plan to make good on that threat?" he sneered.

"Quite."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

Snape released his hold on the boy as a shock, uncomfortable, but not so much as to hurt him, worked its way up his arm. "What in the world."

"There's more where that came from. Next time there will be pain."

"What magic is this, Potter?"

"It's power.I don't understand it. I don't know where it came from. But I can use it."

"Who taught you?"

"I don't know. Why am I telling you this?"

"Because whether you know it or not, you want.and need, help," said Snape, in as gently a voice as Harry had ever heard him use.

"What do you care?"

"I couldn't care less, personally. But to be a teacher, I had to go through a few child psychology courses. It was hell. I loathe children.self-centered wankers."

"Then why are you a teacher?"

"Because I hate children!" he exclaimed. "Silence!" He took several deep breaths, as though this was paining him immensely. "There were several lectures on abuse and children with.traumatic pasts."

"So they made you sit for hours telling you how to deal with kids with fucked up psyches? That's unreasonably harsh, even for you."

"Language, Potter. I am not Dumbledore of Lupin. Thirty points from Gryffindor. And yes, in answer to your question."

"How many other screwed up ones have you had?"

"Too many."

"Number?"

"None. But I've had an unusually high amount of hyperactive buggers." He sighed. "Perhaps you should go. Before I start subtracting points from Gryffindor for your existence. Write a three foot long essay on why your behavior in class deserves much more punishment than a three foot long essay."

"What if it's so convincing you give it to me?"

"Leave."

Harry gathered his things, smiling to himself, and left the dungeons. Perhaps Snape wasn't so bad.

Snape called to him as he reached the door. "Potter.if you could please not mention our conversation to anyone."

"Of course not. Er, sir, if you would.um, not tell anyone about.er.my arm and.stuff."

"There was a lot of stress about keeping a student's trust. Has this- abuse-happened lately?"

"No."

"Excellent. If it should, however, I must ask you to inform a professor."

He looked at Snape for a moment, and then nodded. "I didn't say anything about trusting you."

"Nonetheless, I invaded your 'personal space'," he rolled his eyes, "and, seeing as you didn't divulge any specific information."

"Thank you," he muttered, momentarily disgusted at the thought of saying those two words to Snape in the same sentence.

To this, Snape said nothing, but watched as Harry left his classroom.

He sighed and walked to his desk, sat down, and began to grade papers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had been realizing that he didn't know that much about Necromancy in itself. Having finished the work that was due the next day (fairly late at night; Dumbledore had apparently pulled a few strings, gotten his detentions transferred to Lupin, and busied Filch with other tasks) he sneaked out of the dormitory to see if he could find anything in the library. He pulled on his Invisibility Cloak (although his roommates had tried to sit up with him, he'd played some mind games with them to dissuade them from that course of action.and convinced them out loud that he had loads of homework, which he did, so as not to attract too much suspicion at the fact that Neville, Seamus, and Dean had identical thought processes, which they would undoubtedly compare before going to sleep) silently and crept down the spiral staircases, dreading finding anyone there.

He walked through the library, squinting, as the only light was that of the moon. He tripped over a chair, falling onto a table. Gryffindor: A Brief Biography. What's this doing here? It wasn't like Madam Pince to leave books out of their place. It was opened to the various prophecies he had made, and there were bits of parchment scattered everywhere, covered with messy notes about his life. He read one to himself. 'The Heir is to come when.oh, this is bullshit! Why does Binns assign such stupid topics?' This person is impatient. Like that wasn't obvious. He turned it to the index. While the subjects were grouped under letter names, they weren't exactly in alphabetical order.Nude photographs of, napping habits, nationality, natural hair color, nyctalopia of, Necromancy: hidden secrets of, known facts of, sources on this topic. He was trying in vain to make out the miniscule page numbers beneath when something tapped him on his shoulder. His muscles tensed involuntarily, and his breathing stopped momentarily. He forced himself to inhale normally, plunged his right hand into his pocket and wrapped it around his wand, pushing the chair back simultaneously into what he hoped was the attacker's pelvic region; not remembering the fact that he could have easily wormed out of the intruder's grasp and escaped, being still under the cloak.

Whoever it was behind him gasped and bent over, a crippling pain evidently between his/her legs. Harry couldn't tell what sex his attacker was, as his or her long black hair was in their eyes.

"Fuck it, Harry, do you have any fucking idea how much it fucking hurts to get hit in that fucking place twice in the space of five fucking minutes?" The voice was Sirius', and he relaxed immensely.

"What'd you do, walk into the blunt end of the suit of armor's sword?"

"No, although that hurts a hell of a lot, too. If you must know, it involved taking a wrong turn into a Quidditch supply closet.apparently, the fucking Beater's sticks are motion sensitive and know either by intuition or design to go-" he groaned "for my balls," he complained, staring at a spot some way to the left of Harry. "Take off the Cloak, I hate talking to things I can't see, makes me feel silly."

Harry didn't answer.

"See? You've probably left. And I'll be here raving like a lunatic until morning."

"Sirius, to the majority of the wizarding community, you are a lunatic," he said, pulling off the cloak.

"True."

"Why are you here?"

"I might ask you the same question."

"You might, but I asked you first."

"I'm your elder."

"That's a really lame excuse."

"I know. What brings you here?"

"Homework." Not really, but close enough.

"Fifth year boys aren't supposed to be up past two until the month before the OWLs."

"You forget, I have to take NEWTS as well."

"Oh, yeah. I meant to talk to you about that."

"Why?"

"It's-weird-I mean.I mean it's not right. This is your last chance to be a kid, Harry. Hogwarts. You can have three years of enjoying yourself or you can just throw it out to take advanced courses. Look, as high as my opinions of you are, you do not belong in a class with people two years older than you. When you're older, you'll look back and think about all of what you missed out on. Part of the reason parents want to send their kids here is for the camaraderie, and you won't get the same bond with people that you haven't shared a bedroom and worries with. Seventeen year olds think about very different things than fifteen year olds. Graduation, jobs.I don't care how ready you might be for it, I don't want you in that class."

"But Professor Dumbledore said it would get me ready for Voldemort-"

"Dumbledore shouldn't be putting you in the thick of things like he is! He should spend more time protecting you than preparing you!"

"Sirius, he can and will find ways to get around whatever obstacles Dumbledore might put up. It's probably more practical to just kill me.it would save a lot of lives, especially if he turned me-"

"Don't even think that," said Sirius sharply. "We have no way of defeating him if you die."

"You just said I shouldn't the thick of it!"

"I meant that Dumbledore shouldn't put pressure on you to prepare for the conflict-"

"You don't know what you mean."

"One could say that, yes. I just can't stand having you get hurt.and I can't do anything about it."

"I'm not too thrilled about it, either."

"I promised James I'd take care of you."

"You couldn't be doing any better."

"That's not true."

"I wouldn't know." He shrugged. "Think what you want, but you are really.um.nice?"

"You're worse at this than I am."

"At what?"

"Never mind." He sighed. "Do you really want to do this?"

"What?"

"Stop Voldemort."

"Yes-of course."

"And that's fine. But you're still a child. You have a life to live. You don't have to spend it fighting evil."

"But-"

"I know we can't do it without you. Still. I know you haven't had much time to enjoy yourself, and I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to go through last year and.I'm sorry I wasn't in a position to help you more. Hogwarts is one of the best experiences anyone can have, and I think you should think about this before you pass up two years at one of the very few places that you can have fun."

"Fun? I think not. I don't want to be here, Sirius."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "No friends. Boring classes."

"Boring?"

"Exceedingly."

"Explain?"

"They're a bunch of stuffy fruitcakes trying to cram all their crap up your ass. Except for Remus."

"That's a really nice way of putting it."

"I like to think so. Really, though, I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. I mean, it's been great, but-now that Ron's gone.and."

"I understand," said Sirius softly. "But you're not going to be comfortable there."

"I'd noticed." He sighed. "Please don't make me stay."

"You realize that when you leave, Albus can't protect you anymore, and you won't be able to write to me any time.you'll be all alone."

"He said he wanted to send me to the Academy."

"Boot camp," Sirius said darkly. "Don't go there. They're all over eighteen, and full of themselves. You're supposed to be combating the forces of darkness and here're all these people from Slytherin."

"You went there?"

"I did, actually. Me and your dad."

"What about my mum?"

"Women aren't Aurors. They do office work."

"What chauvinist pigs!"

"Tell me about it." He sighed. "It's like the Muggle army. They can deliver supplies and messages and whatnot but they won't let them into the actual campaigns."

"Why?"

"Rape, mainly."

"Isn't there male rape, too?" He thought back to Uncle Vernon's 'sessions' with him in the cupboard.

"Yeah." said Sirius. "It's all horrible. But they think there's more of a chance of it happening with women. There is a training Academy, should a Dark witch come into power."

"Haven't there been some?"

"Not many after Morgan Le Fay, and there were no Aurors then. They have a Special Services division for that.should the witch only accept females.only way to get spies in the circle."

"Oh."

"They have a separate Academy, last I checked. Much smaller.less women interested in that career.supposedly keeps the men focused, but it backfires.they crave sex so much they have prostitutes running all over the place."

"That's disgusting."

"Yeah, and odds are that your roommate's had sex with at least five other guys. So if you step in any funny-looking puddles, they're probably lubricant. You'll run into guys shagging all over the place. Oh, and there'll probably be some pornography photographer hanging around."

"The administration doesn't do anything about this?"

"They don't want to know what that thing is on the floor.don't bother testing it.girls running around are fairly normal.perhaps sisters or girlfriends visiting."

"They have sex with their SISTERS?" he said, appalled.

"No, the whores pretend to be relatives. Pay attention."

"Oh, sorry. And the photographers?"

"Inspectors from the Ministry, verifying everything is shipshape."

"In other words, anyone gets in."

"No, there are wards.but.you know how it is.lots of ways of sneaking in. Especially if the students let invite you."

"That is so gross."

"I know," he said cheerfully. "Do you want to go?"

"Not really. Why did you have to tell me this?"

"So you realize that being on your own through that isn't exactly paradise. It's pretty cool to make your own decisions, but the people there do do drugs, and you are going to get pressure to do things you might not want to-"

"Who said I didn't want to do sex and drugs?"

"Sex and drugs are fun."

Harry looked at him.

"What? It's true. I've made some pretty bad choices in my life.ended up in a Muggle prison once, with an overly high bail."

"Remus tried to do something like this with me."

"It didn't work, did it?"

"No."

"I figured as much. He was too embarrassed to go into specifics. He's far too touchy-feely." Sirius laughed. "He's great, though."

"So why are you being so-honest?"

"Well, I'm going to have to have a lot of these with you, seeing you didn't get lectures at the dinner table about the dangers of the opposite sex."

"I had Sex Ed," he volunteered.

"That doesn't count as being drummed into your head."

"I know about female hygienic products!"

Sirius groaned. "'There's a slim pad for light flow days, a maxi pad for medium flow days, and a SUPER MAXI pad for heavy flow days! Some girls prefer to use one product, while others prefer to use separate depending on their needs! Some even wear a slim pad and a tampon for heavy flow! A tampon is inserted into the vagina by means of a plastic applicator tip-' explains the bumbling, incompetent mother, trying to play 'I can identify with my teenage daughter!' while pulling out ten boxes of hygienic products."

"They made you watch that too?"

"Who am I now?" He sang the first few notes of the opening song to the 'gay kids in Lycra taking steroids' series.

"No!" Harry put his hands over his ears in mock horror.

"Yes.unfortunately, I suffered the same fate." He laughed. "But I'm not here to relive those days. The fact is, I am a stand in parent, and as ill-suited as I am for this, we are going to have several long talks. So I might as well try to be honest, right? Unless you'd prefer me to keep everything from you and let you try to figure it out on your own."

"But Dumbledore kept things from me."

"Albus doesn't have the same relationship I want to with you."

"What's that?"

"The whole father/son thing."

"You want that?"

"Yes! I thought you knew that."

He was silent.

"Er, Harry, actually, I wasn't only looking for you to see what you were doing here."

"Okay."

"Um, you remember, how this summer, I told you that Albus might be sending me into the field?"

"Yes."

"I'm leaving in about half an hour. I had to see you before I went."

"You're leaving? Now?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I just found out today, and you were in class and.there wasn't a good time." He could tell his godson was crushed, and a pang of regret surged through his chest. "This is really important. If it weren't, I wouldn't be doing it. Besides, isn't the best part of boarding school getting away from your parents?"

"If I had parents, I wouldn't want to get away from them," said Harry softly.

"You have me."

"I don't want to be away from you."

"I don't want to, either.but somehow, we got fucked.we got a raw deal, Harry."

"Some people wouldn't say that. It could be worse, right?"

"Things can always be worse, unfortunately."

"I'd bet loads of people would be thrilled to have fucked up powers thrown on them, right?"

"Yeah.why else would Voldemort be trying to recruit you?" Sirius stopped, realizing what he'd just said.

"Voldemort wants to recruit me?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet.

"Harry-"

"He wants to RECRUIT me?" He stood up, the book on his lap dropping to the floor. "What the hell am I?"

"You're a fifteen year old boy, and my godson."

"No! I'm not! I'm some freak! Some weapon that everyone's fighting over!" he said angrily.

"You're not a weapon.you're a person."

"Right, like Voldemort thinks that! I'm some stupid toy to him, and probably Dumbledore too!"

"Harry, listen to yourself!"

"What am I listening to? Something I should have figured out a long time ago! I never mattered there! Why should it be any different here? The Dursley's don't think I'm a person, or they wouldn't have done all that to me! I was Dudley's punching bag, and Aunt Petunia's housecleaner, and Uncle Vernon's whore!"

"You were your uncle's what?" said Sirius, desperately wanting not to have heard what he thought he had.

"Nothing," he said, looking away.

Sirius grabbed his chin and forced him to look him in the eyes. "What did you say about your uncle?"

"What's it to you?" he challenged.

"Everything."

"It's not important!"

"Yes, it is. Did he ever beat you?"

"Yes, he did."

"Frequently?"

"There's no use digging up things that are dead and buried."

"Did he beat you often?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"At least once a week."

"Does he still do this?"

"Not as much.after I turned eleven."

"Did he ever sexually assault you?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"A valid one. Did your uncle ever sexually assault you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean. Did he ever shove his dick up your ass?"

Harry looked at him fearfully, and Sirius released him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to force you to do anything."

"I know."

"Did he, though?"

Harry's mouth opened, and he looked like he was about to say something, but then he closed it. Then he opened it again. He looked rather like a fish. "I really don't want to talk about it," he said at last.

"I need to know."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"He did."

He bit his lip and nodded.

"How old were you?"

"Don't remember."

"Before or after you were eleven?"

"Before," he whispered, trying not to cry as the memories came back.

"More than once?"

He nodded again, looking away in shame.

Sirius closed his eyes in horror. How could anyone have done that to a mere child? An image of Harry..small.helpless.beaten.starving.naked.came to his mind. He was going to be sick. "Go to bed," he ordered, his voice oddly husky.

Harry didn't protest, to his great relief.

And he was sick.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry punched his pillow in frustration. How had both Snape and Sirius managed to get it out of him? He'd sworn, sworn as soon as he understood what that meant, that he would never tell anyone.anyone, no matter who they might be. He closed his eyes, willing the tears not to fall. Am I really that desperate for help?

Took you this long to figure it out? I can't believe you didn't tell me!

"Who's there?"

Harry, it's me! Ron!

RON? But you're-

Dead. Yeah. Listen, Harry-Mum has my ashes, at home-but she can't keep them there.I need a proper burial.

But you can't-he ate you.

I know. But my head is still together. I can sense it.

What do you need your head for?

Whatever exists has to be together, otherwise my soul is stuck there. You're the Necromancer, you have to do it.

Do what?

Get it together! Avada Kedavra does more than just kill you.it makes your soul leave.but you see, if they cut you up before they do it.my soul went all these different places.it's really hard to explain, but.

No one told me any of this!

It's never happened. Avada Kedavra is supposed to be the actual killer, and never has anyone been cut up and not bled to death before they cast it.

What?

Look, Harry, I know this must be really weird for you, but I'm more scared than you are.I dunno where I am, and there's nothing, Harry, nothing.I'm scared to death, but I am dead, so it doesn't really matter.

Where are you? Where am I?

I dunno where you are, but I'm somewhere in-between worlds.I'm not complete. Weird stuff, Harry. I won't be able to talk to you until you find my body.this is my one shot at getting you to find it for me. Please do.

I will, but Ron-

I have to go. Don't forget me, Harry.

RON!!!

He didn't get a reply. "Come back." he said softly, his voice sounding pitiful to his own ears. "Ron.come back." But nothing. He took off his glasses, buried his face in his pillow, and started to sob.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 12 sooner!