Harry Potter and the Mirror of Nostradamus

Disclaimer: I am not making any money off this (though I wish I were), this is only fanfiction so nothing belongs to me except the plot.

A/N: I know I haven't updated for awhile , but this is a pretty longish chapter and it should make up for it I guess. Thanks for your reviews (the replies are at the end of the chapter) and forgive my silliness in some parts of this chapter…I couldn't help it.

Anyway- enjoy!

Chapter 6: The Mystery of the Malfoys

      Ginny stepped inside resolutely, ignoring his question. "Who were you talking to just now?" she asked, frowning. Involuntarily Harry's eyes wandered over to the map and she followed his gaze… "Accio!" he called immediately before she could grab it, and the parchment came zooming into his hands.

"It's the Marauders' Map, isn't it," she said, brown eyes regarding him shrewdly. A wave of irritation welled up in him. "Did it occur to you that it's none of your business?" he spat. He was angry that his conversation with Sirius had been interrupted.

She looked taken back but didn't back down. "You were telling someone you were at their place, and it was the headquarters of the Order…" she said and Harry could see she looked worried. It was obvious she thought he had gone crazy and believed himself to be talking to Sirius.

"Been eavesdropping then, have you?" he said coldly.

"As if you wouldn't have if you'd heard voices at the door," she replied immediately. She waved her wand and the door shut behind her, then moved closer to Harry and folded her arms. She was right; Harry would have done exactly the same thing.

"Besides, I've been coming here ever since last summer," she continued, squinting at the map clutched in Harry's hands where he knew the shiny writing still remained. He hastily jammed it in his pocket before looking back at the redhead. He had shot up a couple of inches over the summer and was somewhat taller than her, despite his relatively short height.

"Is that why the room is so clean, and it looks like a fire has been lit recently?" Harry asked her.

"Very good, Sherlock." She flopped back on an armchair.

"Why?" He frowned. Hopefully she'd get wrapped up in the conversation and forget about what she'd heard him saying. Then he wouldn't have to answer any questions about Sirius…

She shrugged. "I get bored and want to be alone sometimes, I guess. And I like to read, too." She gestured towards the book shelves lining the walls. "There's some really interesting stuff in here. About purebloods, Slytherin and the Dark Arts…you might want to read them- that is, if you think you can handle it," she grinned.

"Very funny. I didn't think you were into that kind of thing," said Harry. Did she mean they just talked about the Dark Arts, or were they actually Dark books? He wouldn't be surprised- the Blacks had been Dark Wizards after all. Maybe there was something in there about bringing people back from the dead…

"Oh, there are a lot of things you don't know about me," she said mysteriously. Harry watched her carefully before sitting in the chair beside her, and there was silence between them for a moment. She was right; there was a lot he didn't know about her, like the fact that she was a good Quidditch player, and God knew what else. Ginny had always been one of those 'other people' that lay somewhere in his life, without him giving them any real thought or attention.

"You still haven't told me who you were talking to," she said suddenly, and Harry swore silently. He set his jaw stubbornly and when Ginny saw he wasn't about to grace her with an answer she rolled her eyes. "Fine, you don't have to tell me. Any…" she stopped and for once she looked hesitant, almost nervous. Then she continued, more softly, "Any idiot could see you were talking to Sirius Black…Grimmauld place is- I mean was, his, after all."

 Harry honestly didn't know what to say. "I haven't lost my marbles, Ginny," he muttered finally.

"I know you haven't. But it's that map, isn't it? You were doing something with it…Harry, I don't understand." She sounded genuinely worried and Harry couldn't help noticing how wide and innocent her eyes looked when she was anxious.

"You don't have to," he said, more harshly than he'd intended to. "I'm sorry…look, do you remember your first year, when Tom Riddle's memory-"

"I remember," she cut him off hastily.

"Yeah, well, it's sort of the same way I can talk to Sirius; through the Marauder's Map…he was Padfoot, one of the manufacturers."

If the circumstances hadn't been so serious (A/N: No pun intended) he would have laughed at the amazed expression on her face. "Wow…Sirius was Padfoot? Wait till Fred and George hear about this," she breathed.

"They won't," Harry said firmly. "Especially about what I've been doing with the map. Even Ron and Hermione don't know about that, and the only reason you do is because you walked in on me. I plan to keep it that way."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Ron and Hermione don't know?" She seemed shocked that for once, Harry was –although unwillingly- entrusting her with something that he had no intention of telling his best friends

He shook his head. "Look, I just don't want to worry them, that's all. You know Hermione, she wouldn't like it. And they have enough on their mind without having to think about me and my…antics."

"I don't suppose you can show me?" she asked quietly, and Harry could see curiousity shining in those wide eyes. He had enjoyed the feeling of him being alone to talk with Sirius, and of keeping it a pleasant secret he could keep to himself. It was okay that Lupin knew, and if he wanted to use it as well Harry wouldn't stop him, but Ginny was an entirely different story.

"Not today, Gin…sorry." It occurred to him with some amusement that if Padfoot was still there he'd probably be listening to everything that they were saying.

"I understand." She stared ahead at the fireplace, watching the smoldering black ashes. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about it." She didn't say that Harry had done something wrong or was dwelling in the past or any other typical comment that people would make and Harry was somewhat relieved. "Thanks," he smiled. "I guess I can trust you," he said teasingly.

"Hmmph. But what do I get in return?" Ginny tossed back her long hair and smirked.

"Are you blackmailing me, Weasley?" he retorted in a mock dangerous tone.

"Take it the way you want," she said lightly. "But I think some sort of encouragement is required for me to keep my mouth shut…"

Harry leaned back against the armchair, grinning, all previous anger decapitated. "Let's see," he mused, "Will a signed autograph do?"

"From Harry Potter himself?" She scrunched up her face in a perfect imitation of Dobby's adoring look when he talked to Harry and they both burst out laughing.

"All right…if you don't tell them about Sirius I won't tell them that you always come up here secretly and do…things." Harry said, nodding his head knowingly.

"Things? I have no knowledge of these things you speak of," Ginny said, grinning widely.

"Oh, you do," said Harry gravely. "And the twins would just love to hear about them, too, don't you think?"

"There are no things, Harry- I told you, I just read."

"I know there aren't. But Fred and George don't know that do they? They'd believe me." He winked. "Let me see, how about, secret rendezvous with Dean Thomas using the fire…oh, the possibilities."

She tried to scowl and failed miserably. "All right Potter, you got yourself a deal," she said gruffly.

"Good," he yawned, stretching and heaving himself up. "It's late Gin, I think we'd better turn in."

She looked at her watch. "Guess so," she got up as well and followed him out into the corridor.

"You know," said Harry as they both lit their wands and shuffled along as quietly as they could. "I think I better drop in here every once in a while…just to make sure you really don't do any things." It had just occurred to him that her company was rather…pleasant. He wouldn't say he fancied her as he had done Cho Chang, but being with her was…refreshing.

"Yeah, sure, as long as you don't drag Ron and Hermione along. I go to that room to get a break from their squabbling," Ginny replied. Harry laughed. "I assure you I'll do no such thing." They had reached his room whose door was wide open, and they could see Ron inside reading Flying with the Cannons again.

"Oi, you two! Where've you been?" he called. "Er- we were just chatting a bit," said Harry truthfully, not wanting to directly lie to his best friend.

"Ron, I don't wanna wake up again tomorrow with your pillow in my face," Ginny said warningly before blowing her brother a kiss and wishing Harry good night.

"We'll see," Ron smirked.

                                   *********************************

Harry did in fact end up going to the room again a few times over the next week and he always saw Ginny there. He went at night and they actually stayed up there for hours, just chatting mindlessly and sometimes Harry would sink back in his chair, staring at the fire, lost in his thoughts, while Ginny pored over books from the various shelves lining the walls. She convinced him to go through some of the books and he did. Granted, there was nothing that would help him get Sirius back but there was plenty on the subject of purebloods and Voldemort's motives when he had first started- continuing

Salazar Slytherin's work of ridding the magical world of non-magical blood.

He found out that aside from his obsession with escaping death, Voldemort had always had another deep interest, although the knowledge of that interest was less common among wizards. This interest was reading the future- which explained his going after the prophecy and whatever he was planning this year as well. But it had only been mentioned briefly in that particular book- The Dark Lord: The first years.

Sometimes he would go early to have some time alone with Sirius and when Ginny came he would apologize to Padfoot before putting the map away. Ron questioned him on where he disappeared off to in the night and Harry, feeling bad that he was keeping something- no matter how trivial- from his best friend, told him that he just liked to walk around the house at night and think, and the subject was not raised again.

"Doesn't Hermione wonder where you go in the evenings?" Harry asked Ginny one night while they were lounging about in the room, his Potions homework lying untouched on his lap.

Ginny looked up from reading The Dark Lord: The first years. "She noticed last summer and I told her I'd found a room with a sort of mini- library. She wanted to see it but then you arrived and with all the stuff going on I guess she forgot about it," Ginny shrugged.

"Does it bother you that I've invaded your privacy?" he inquired bluntly. She shook her head, grinning a bit. "It's nice to have company for a change. But if I want to be alone I go in the afternoon. I assume you do the same." Harry nodded thinking of his 'alone time' with Padfoot.

If it were up to him he'd tell Ron and Hermione about this place; Hermione would love to see the books and Ron wouldn't be too happy if he knew that Harry and Ginny spent the evenings alone in each other's company. Knowing Ron he would completely take it the wrong way. But it was Ginny who had found the room first and he respected her wishes of privacy. He was sure, after all, that she had no ulterior motives for getting him alone in the room…

They were in the last week of summer before September the first arrived, and they had already received owls with their book lists (Mrs. Weasley had gotten them the books for them) and in Harry, Ron, and Hermione's case, the suggested courses they take next year. He hadn't discussed this much with his friends especially as Ron was touchy about the subject, (Harry knew he'd done fine on his OWLs and hadn't pressed it further) but as for himself, McGonagall had told him in the letter to take Advanced Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology, plus Care of Magical Creatures as an elective and Astronomy if he wished. He had agreed and was still deciding about the Astronomy. As for Ginny, she had been made a fifth-year prefect along with Colin Creevey, and thus had been subjected to Fred and George's endless mockery, her mother's gushing pride, and a bit of good-natured teasing from Harry himself.

That night he and Ginny stayed up later than usual, completely engrossed in their chattering- today they were speculating about what had become of Ludo Bagman- and Harry went to bed in a considerably lighter mood than he had been in for a long time.

He awoke the next morning just a little while before noon, and, still berating himself for oversleeping, put on old jeans with his black T-shirt, ran a brush once through his hair before tossing it away hopelessly, then went down to the kitchen to get something to eat. They had all probably eaten breakfast but surely he could find a small something to get him through till lunch.

A strange scene greeted him as he stood at the doorway to the kitchen. Professor McGonagall herself, in long black robes and bun, was walking around the room, her wand pointing upwards as she levitated a large Muggle cardboard box in the air. Loose strands were falling onto her face from her not-so-tightly pulled back hair.

"Er- Professor?" he asked hesitantly, staring at the bespectacled woman whom he was seeing for the first time at Grimmauld place, although she'd obviously been there before numerous times for meetings.

She turned to look at him, black eyebrows knitted together. "Well don't just stand there, Potter, help me find somewhere to put this…Muggle contraption."

Harry stared harder. "Professor McGonagall- is that a TV set?" he asked, frowning.

"Tea Vee? Oh, is that what you call it? Strange, Arthur said it was a Vellytision or something…" Looking distracted, she prodded the brown cardboard with her wand as though expecting a vellytision to suddenly emerge from it.

"Television," Harry corrected, his eyes following the Transfiguration professor as she finally deposited the box on the kitchen counter beside the sink. "Makes no difference," she waved her hand dismissively. "Think it'll be ok here?"

"I…suppose so. Er- Professor, why do we need a television here?" he asked confusedly.

"Don't be daft Potter- to hear the news of course," said McGonagall impatiently. "Professor Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to see the Muggles' point of view should any…happenings take place."

"You mean attacks," said Harry dully.

She scrutinized him with her gaze. "Yes, attacks." Her lips drew into a thin line but the weariness and worry was ever-present in her eyes, like all of them.

"Okay, but- you need electricity to run this thing," said Harry feebly, wondering if McGonagall even knew what electricity was.

"I'm not stupid, Potter," she huffed as though reading his mind. "I know you need that Muggle energy stuff to make these contraptions run. But that's nothing a charm or two won't fix."

"If you say so," said Harry doubtfully. "Do you need any help in unpacking it or something?" he offered though he knew it wouldn't do any good. Oh well- she would find out for herself there was no way she was going to be able to install the television.

"No, I'll leave everything to Arthur, I suppose- he seems to know about these things… He was the one who got it for us, you know. Somehow it fell into wizards' hands and it ended up in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office," the professor said.

Harry coughed. "Um- right." He had experience with Mr. Wealsey's exploits in Muggle technology.

Harry poked around in the kitchen cupboards and was able to find a half-empty cardboard box of pumpkin juice and a large bag of Wizard Cereal (Golden Honey-Roasted Snitches) which he devoured down hungrily, feeling embarrassed doing so in front of McGonagall whose curiousity with the television had obviously taken over her; she had ripped open the cardboard box and was frowning at the Muggle instructions leaflet. 

A horrible screeching suddenly burst into his ears. "Filthy mudbloods! Pestering, tactless, bloody Muggles littering the house of my Grandfathers!" Harry and McGonagall exchanged glances.

 "Tonks," they groaned simultaneously. Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before the young witch burst in, with her hair standard straight- brown in a ponytail, wearing Auror robes and a distraught expression. "Hi," she said. "It wasn't my fault this time- the umbrella stand crashed into me- I swear Dung's put a charm on that thing…ooh, golden snitches, my favourite," she grinned, grabbing a handful from Harry.

"How are things at the Ministry?" McGonagall questioned, putting away the leaflet in distaste. Tonk's expression darkened immediately. "Not so good…so you got that Muggle thing after all eh? Mr. Weasley seemed pretty excited when he told me about it."

"I'm sure," said McGonagall tartly. "Nymphadora, what's been happening over there?"

Tonks winced at the use of her first name. "Actually, that's why I came here. Is Dumbledore around?"

"No, I'm afraid he has a meeting with the Confederation," the older woman replied impatiently. Harry munched silently on the cereal, hoping that if he remained quiet they would somehow forget he was there and he would hear what Tonks had to say.

"Then you'll have to tell him yourself." Tonks assaulted another handful of cereal and began, "Umph aph at amphaban."

"What? Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" snapped Professor McGonagall.

Tonks swallowed. "Sorry. I said, we were at Azkaban, me and Shacklebolt and two others. You know, to check on the Death Eaters. It's a real mess over there; the dementors won't even obey a single command of ours. We were attempting to talk with that old git Malfoy, the cell door was open and all of a sudden the dementors came unto us- there were like a hundred of them-" Harry shivered. "- from all the cells around. And by the time we had managed to drive them off- with some damn good Patronuses, if I do say so myself-  some of the Death Eaters had formed a group, sort of, and I'm pretty sure I saw Lestrange and Malfoy were talking some very important business. Apparently they'd taken advantage of this chance to talk together. I tried to listen in all of the confusion, and I caught Malfoy saying something like 'If only I'd known!' He seemed pretty pissed off. Then they got separated as we pushed all of them back into their separate cells- no problem, of course, we had wands and they didn't."

Tonks took a deep breath and then looked back at McGonagall who was wearing a very serious expression on her face.

"You think they were talking about whatever that thing Lestrange was supposed to do at Hogwarts?" asked Harry and both women jumped; they had forgotten he was there.

"This is Order business that you shouldn't have heard, Potter," said McGonagall, but he could tell she said it half-heartedly and only because she felt she had to. "And yes, they probably were talking about that. God knows what he's planning now," she sighed. Harry resisted the urge to point out that he had a name.

"It's not the first time something like this happens," said Tonks dolefully, staring longingly at the remaining cornflakes. "The dementors have been wreaking havoc all summer- it's only a matter of time before we have a mass breakout."

Like last year…but only worse. And the Dark Lord will rise again, stronger and more terrible than before…

His stomach felt hollow suddenly, despite the large amount of sweet cereal he had just consumed.

 "You all right?" McGonagall was watching him like a hawk.

"I'm fine. I think I ate too much, though." He shoved the packet at Tonks and forced a smile. There was no way he was letting them think that he was too weak to handle any information. He just couldn't help it when his thoughts…wandered sometimes.

"And I need not mention that anything said in this room doesn't leave it, right Potter?" McGonagall said sharply. Harry squirmed a bit. "Of course, professor," he muttered.

"Oh come on Minerva," said Tonks. "The info has to leave this room because you have to tell Dumbledore, remember? And you know Harry will tell Ron and Hermione anyway, if not Ginny."

"Oh, very well," said McGonagall. "But I'm trusting you, remember."

Harry nodded. "I won't tell anyone else. I guess I'll see you later," he told them. "Oh, I almost forgot, Potter," called McGonagall as he made his way over to the door. "Professor Snape has asked me to tell you that your first Occlumency lesson will be tomorrow evening, at seven, in the living room."

Harry's mouth dropped open in dismay. "I- already?" She actually gave him what looked like a sympathetic smile. "Yes, already. I daresay it is much more convenient for both of you to have the lessons here, at your leisure. You'd better get used to each other, as you'll be in his NEWT class." There was something akin to pride in her voice and Harry couldn't help smiling a bit. "I didn't let you down, right, professor," he said good-humoredly but he was serious.

"No, Potter, you didn't- but you should keep up the good work if you want to be an Auror."

 Tonks beamed. "You want to be an Auror? I'll put in a good word for you at the Ministry."

"Thanks," said Harry, suddenly wishing Sirius was there to see his Outstanding Potions Owl. The thought was pushed away quickly from his mind and soon he was upstairs telling his friends what he had just heard about Malfoy and Lestrange.

He spent the whole day and the next one dreading seven in the evening. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to find a way to make the situation seem more positive. He hated Snape, Snape hated him, and now Snape had to teach him an almost impossible feat of which in the process he would be relieving Harry's worst memories. Harry didn't know what he was dreading more, Snape or the memories themselves, for he knew what lay in store for him in his own mind…

 Ginny tried to calm him down a bit in their regular night meeting and thanks to her he was able to clear his mind of emotion before he slept as was required.

The time came all too soon. Six fifty-five found Harry in his room, in his black clothes again as he stuck his wand in the back pocket of his jeans. He remembered the comment Moody had made about that last year and he was able to smile, which calmed his racing nerves. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were all looking at him solemnly and he let out a bitter laugh in spite of himself.

"I'm not going to my burial, you guys." Not yet anyway.

"Might as well be," said Ron at the same time as Hermione exclaimed, "Of course not!" and they both glared at each other. Harry and Ginny exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. "Good luck," she mouthed. Harry winked at her and then hurried downstairs, past the hallway with the elf heads and then towards the living room.

He paused behind the doorway to catch his breath, uttered a silent prayer, and then stepped inside.

Snape was sitting on the old couch, his legs crossed, reading a book of which Harry caught a glimpse of the cover, Fooling Potions (The master's guide to harmless potions which look exactly like deadly ones! Scare your friends, threaten them, and lots more!)

Harry walked forward hesitantly and looked around. The new coffee table that Mrs. Weasley had bought recently had been pushed aside to clear a space for them and on it lay- surprise, surprise- Dumbledore's penseive. Just looking at it again made Harry's insides squirm.

"Going to stand there all day, Potter?" Snape said lazily without looking up at him. Harry jumped at being spoken to. "I…thought you hadn't seen me," he replied somewhat lamely.

"You thought wrong, obviously." Snape put away the book and got to his feet. He took out his wand and twirled it in his long fingers as he surveyed the boy before him.

"I expect you are planning on letting the both of us make through this ordeal with out any… unfavorable predicaments," the Potions Master remarked, and the scathing look he sent Harry made clear exactly what he was talking about- there was to be no repeat of the incident last year.

Harry gritted his teeth. You can do this, Potter. Calm temper, calm nerves; treat him with the respect he wants. For you, for your friends, for Dumbledore, for the whole world. "Yes, sir," he said in the most neutral tone he could manage.

"Very well, that said and done, we will commence." He beckoned Harry forward so that they were standing facing each other. "Wand out," he ordered. Harry complied, the thin wooden stick clutched tightly in his hand.

"Slowly now…take deep breaths…rid your mind of all emotion…" Snape's smooth voice was the only sound in the room as Harry closed his eyes and concentrated hard on emptying his brain. "Ready?" Harry nodded slowly.

"On the count of three then- I hope this will prove more satisfactory then your previous attempts…one..."

 I'm going to see Sirius falling through the veil.

"…two…"

I can't do this. Please, stop it.

"…three…"

No!

"Legilimens!"

Images flashed vividly in Harry's brain as he found himself forcefully faced with the ghastly memories he had buried deep inside of him. He was locked in the cupboard under the stairs, fighting away spiders while deep laughter came from the outside…Ginny was lying frozen in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets… he was sitting in a chair in front of Umbridge, writing I must not tell lies while blood poured out of the cut in his hand… he was fighting a hundred dementors… Cedric's corpse was spread-eagled on the floor of an old graveyard- his heart pounded; it was coming, he knew it, he closed his eyes tightly, it didn't do any good- …Sirius's body was flying through the air, his eyes wide open in shock…

"NO! Please…!" he screamed. He tasted blood as he fell face forward onto the hard floor, his shoulders shaking violently. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes and with all his strength he willed them to go- he would not be humiliated.

Harry lifted his head up, his heart pounding like a monster. Snape was watching him through cold black eyes.

"You panicked," he said simply. "You were afraid of what you were going to see and you gave into it."

Harry swallowed. "I- I know…" his voice was still quivering from alarm at what he had seen. He took a deep breath. "Let's try again," he said in quiet determination.

"Get up, Potter," Snape said. Harry staggered to his feet. "That was beyond pathetic; as I'm sure you've figured out by yourself. I shall give you a moment to collect yourself."

Harry barely nodded, wanting to hit Snape for the torture he'd just made him go through, the heartless git. He steadied himself with the couch, counting to ten inside his head, calming himself, trying to put the image of his godfather out of his head.

He had to do this. He had to. It was just like resisting the Imperius, really.

He looked up into Snape's ruthless face. "I'm ready," he said firmly.

"About time too…I suggest you actually try to stop me this time," Snape sneered. Harry clenched his fists, his lips pursed tightly. "Come on," he ground out.

"Patience, Potter…patience…Legilimens!"

He struck suddenly but Harry was ready for him this time. He drew his mind to a complete blank with the resolute will which made him one of few able to resist the Imperius. The images were there again, but they were foggier this time and the memories were not so emotionally heartrending and were from the surface of his mind, not the deep-down, buried ones.         

Cho was yelling at him, then storming out of the café in Hogesmade…he was falling fifty feet from in air…he and Seamus were fighting…someone was singing  'Weasley is our King' in the distance…Aunt Marge was floating near the ceiling…he was in the Potions classroom- This couldn't be good; he tried desperately to block it but his unconscious mind was half curious to see- … he was in the Potions Classroom, slightly less clearer now…Snape was vanishing away his potion and grading him with a zero…no, no, stop…but his brain was on a roll now; the Slytherins were laughing, there was Hermione- that growing potion or whatever it was had enlarged her teeth… I have to shut this out, now… Malfoy flashed a POTTER STINKS badge at him out of nowhere…there was Snape again; he was reading the article Rita Skeeter had written in front of the whole class…STOP IT NOW…ENOUGH!

The images grew hazy suddenly and a final one of the trio stirring the Polyjuice Potion with Hermione shortly looking like a cat was barely visible before everything disappeared completely. Harry opened his eyes. He was standing upright, his wand at his side, completely unused. His face was red with concentration and embarrassment.

 "Well, well, Potter…now I know how to make you resist the spell…who would have thought? Tell me now," Snape's upper lip quivered as though he was trying not to smile. "What did you find worse, the article, or the incident with Miss Granger?"

Harry's hands started shaking with rage. He's just trying to get you worked up, don't fall for it; it'll ruin everything when you've started to get the hang of this Occlumency thing.

"Both were bad enough, don't worry," Harry said evenly, keeping his gaze level with the Potion Master's.

"And what potion were you making in the bathroom?" He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

"It was Polyjuice, sir." Harry retorted.

"Interesting…I know all about your attempt to get in the Slytherin common room, of course." Harry opened his mouth in surprise and Snape cut him off. "You have clearly underestimated me, Potter," he sneered.

"Clearly," Harry said flatly.

"We will try again. If you do what you did last time you will be fine, but you ought to be much quicker, of course. Voldemort will not sit and wait patiently while you attempt to block your mind."

"Give me a break, I've only just started to get the hang of it," said Harry angrily. Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry shut his mouth reluctantly.

"Try to block me from the very beginning. It would help if you fill your mind with meaningless, shallow thoughts to make things harder for me," said Snape thoughtfully.

"Like what?" Harry demanded.

"Think of…oh, I don't know, think of broomsticks for all I care, Potter."

"Broomsticks, right." Harry allowed a smile to pass his face without helping it. He'd put such stupid thoughts for Snape that he'd want to leave Harry's brain.

Snape cast the spell for the third time that day, and Harry started blocking it immediately. There were foggy shapes floating in and out of his vision- one dark thing looked suspiciously like a Dementor- and slowly, carefully, he allowed thoughts to enter his mind. Broomsticks. My beautiful Nimbus got beat up by the Whomping Willow. No, better not think about that…let me, see…mmm, those Honey-Roasted snitches were sure good today…yummy in my tummy…He could hear Snape's snort of disgust then he felt the spell lifting, but at that very moment a white-hot agony seared in his forehead and he dropped to his knees unconsciously.

The spell was still working; Snape had not removed it yet, and everything was still hazy around him. The pain in his scar was multiplying- a sensation of pleasure engulfed him, so powerful it made him gasp, and suddenly he was staring out of a large brick fireplace into a beautiful room. The tips of his fingers were together; his hands were long, thin and spindly. The white marble floor of the room was sparkling and so was the extravagant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Paintings of numerous witches and wizards hung on the wall, their heads held high and most of them wearing green robes. When they saw Harry they stared at him as though entranced.

Into the room he could see a plush leather black sofa, and next to it, kneeling by the fireplace before him, was a nervous looking boy with slicked back blond hair and gray eyes.

"Your father has told you, I presume?" Harry said in that high cold voice.

"Y-yes, sir. I- I'm sorry I don't have it in this second…I- I didn't know you were coming, umm, my lord," Draco stumbled over his words and it was obvious that this was the first time he had ever talked personally with the Dark Lord.

"Get it, then, boy, and be quick about it," there was an amused note Harry's tone.

"Of- of course, sir, I'll be right back." The boy got up on trembling knees and soon disappeared, and the room seemed to grow foggier and more unclear.

Come back, Potter , came a familiar voice from far away and Harry desperately held on to it, but then the boy was back again and he was giving Harry something…Harry couldn't see what it was…there were only cloudy figures in his vision now… "Potter!!"  The voice was much clearer now.

The room disappeared completely, Harry felt himself hit something with a thud, and then he blacked out.

Thanks to:

Jerseygirl03:  I dunno when Lupin and Harry will continue their conversation but I guess they will and Lupin will tell Harry why he doesn't want to talk to Sirius.

Mella deRanged: Just friends? Well I don't know…the romance is sort of part of the plot…but don't worry, it won't be all fluffy and stuff- at least I hope not- and it'll be slow. Hope it's not too bad for ya.

Lan1: Thanks, sorry about the cliffs but I can't help them- I've got to keep you guys interested right? : - )

Kurbani: It'll get even more interesting soon…

DaBear: That's exactly why I didn't bring Sirius back…hope you keep on reading this

PhoenixPadfoot89: Thanks a lot, hope I didn't take too long

Azntgr01: I didn't mean Lupin to be so confusing…the point was that he really misses Sirius and it would pain him and bring back so many memories if he used the map as well

Burning-Yami-Rain: Hehehe…thanks…well Ginny didn't exactly follow him as you see…she's been going there long before

Coolerimmortal: Thank you! I'm updating as fast as I can

Lauren: I'm glad you like it *grins*

Magee: Thanks, well I guess you found out what Ginny was doing over there…hope I'm keeping you interested

Silvermoon12: Thanks very much! Yea I know that feeling...A lot of times I end up staying up past midnight and writing!

Sorry if I've forgotten anyone and plz review- it makes my day

p.s. I hope you people are not getting too bored 'cos terms hasn't started yet, but it will soon, I promise