Disclaimer: Its not mine unfortunately! All belongs to J. K. Rowling and
the lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from "Motorcycle Drive-by"
by Third Eye Blind.
"The sun goes down in my eyes.
See this rolling wave - darkly coming to take me
home"
All Harry knew was that his scar hurt. No, not hurt, his scar killed. It was sending white-hot shocks through his entire body, nearly immobilizing him. Wherever he was, it was so dark that he couldn't see two feet in front of him. He groped the wall, trying to pull himself up. As he stood, the pain seemed to subside a bit and he slowly started walking, though where to, he had no idea. The hall smelled of blood and smoke, a scent that didn't sit quite comfortably with Harry. He began to shiver slightly, at the prospect of where his footsteps were leading him. He had a nagging feeling, which was supported intensely by the throbbing of his scar, that this had something to do with Voldemort. The scent of blood grew steadily thicker as Harry continued walking.
He heard the voice before he saw the dim light. It was a quietly vicious, but steady voice that Harry knew all too well. It was whispering deviously so low that Harry's ears couldn't pick up its words. He could see dim candlelight coming from the room where the voice was. Harry tiptoed closer, both terrified and intrigued. The smell of blood was becoming unbearable, and Harry was sure he was going to be sick. As he neared the doorway, the candlelight became much brighter, and lit up the wall around him. Harry swallowed hard as he realized he were in a dungeon, probably far underground. He could hear someone crying, but so softly that he could have mistaken it for his imagination. He was just outside of the room now, but too fearful to turn and risk a glance. He had never felt this frightened before, it was a terror that seized every single part of his body, until he could breathe anymore.
That creepy, ominous voice began to speak again, "It's so very simple," It laughed harshly, leaving Harry jarred, "It is so very easy. I can't imagine why I didn't see it before." There was a pause, and then the voice whispered, barely audible, "You, my dear, are the key." There was more harsh laughter, another pause, and then the most alarming, blood curling, feminine scream Harry had ever heard.
Harry awoke with a start, and filled his lungs with the air he didn't know he'd been depriving them of. He was on the floor in Ron's room. Ron was staring down at him, clearly alarmed. Hermione was kneeling over him, talking in jumbles. Harry put his hand up and Hermione stopped talking,
"What happened?" he asked.
We were up here discussing Quidditch and who's most likely to win the cup this year and you just passed out, Harry! Oh, you gave us such a fright!" Hermione exclaimed, gripping Harry's arm painfully.
"Yeah, I remember the Quidditch, but that's all. How long was I out?" He sat up, and his back ached slightly.
Ron ran a hand through his red hair, "Couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes."
Harry leaned his head against Ron's bed. The dream had certainly felt longer than a couple of minutes. Hell, it had felt like forever. His scar still stung and he could still smell blood everywhere - and that scream. It was just completely unnerving. That dream had been so real. Harry sighed, weighing his options. Ron and Hermione would know it had been a dream. But he'd been having vivid dreams since Voldemort had risen again and Sirius had died, why should he worry about this one? 'Because this one was different', a voice in the back of Harry's head told him. He shook it off. He was dreaming because Voldemort was powerful now, nothing had changed, and no one had time to worry about some sixteen-year-old's nightmares.
"You had a dream," Hermione said, and it wasn't a question, "Does your scar hurt, too?"
Harry stood up and plopped down on the bed Mrs. Weasley had set up for him. He took a deep breath and looked up at Hermione, "It stings a bit, not too bad, though."
Ron sat down next to him, "Was it about Sirius again?"
"Er, no, this one was different from the others." Reading the questioning looks, Harry began to describe the dream, albeit reluctantly, in some detail.
When he finished describing the girl's scream, Hermione spoke eagerly, "Harry that dream definetly has meaning! You should tell Dumbledore, someone could be in danger."
It wasn't as though Harry hadn't thought of that, his instincts just told him to keep it between them. He shook his head forcefully, "No, Hermione, not every dream has a prophetic meaning. Besides, Dumbledore is too busy to be bothered with my dreams. It doesn't mean anything."
Ron arched an eyebrow, "But what if it does? Maybe Hermione has a point." Harry smiled, it wasn't often that Ron and Hermione agreed upon anything these days, their bickering was nearing breaking point. Ron didn't notice Harry's smile and kept talking, "Not all your dreams are this explicit. This one is different. It wouldn't hurt to tell someone. Maybe Lupin? Or Mad-Eye?"
Harry racked his brain trying to find a way to make his friends see that he was better off keeping it to himself. "Look, I have dreams all the time, this is nothing new." He paused, but quickly started speaking again when Hermione opened her mouth to say something, "I promise if it happens again, I'll tell someone, okay?"
Ron and Hermione looked at each other helplessly, both knowing that if Harry didn't want help, they couldn't help him. Hermione sighed, frustrated, sometimes Harry was so damn self-righteous.
Harry stood up, feeling awkward, knowing that the mood had changed. In the last few months, something had changed between Ron and Hermione. They were either incessantly fighting or gazing at each other strangely. The mood between them could change so quickly and Harry knew there was something happening beneath the surface that neither Ron, nor the ever-perceptive Hermione could put their fingers on. Sometimes, he just felt awkward around them. Now was one of those times. "I'm going to get some breakfast, I'll see you two in a bit."
Ron mumbled something inaudible and Hermione nodded as Harry left. Ron reached over and gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry so much 'Mione."
She looked up quickly, surprised at the Un-Ron-like gesture, to see him blushing furiously and avoiding her eyes. She smiled, putting her hand on top of his, "Thanks, I just can't help it though, he's been so guarded lately."
She looked distressed and Ron hated when she looked like that, "That's how he is, I think he's just trying to protect us, " he said.
"He going to wind up getting one of us killed."
"It's because of Sirius. He's afraid of losing one of us again, you know that. He's just worried like you," Ron said comfortingly.
"Ron, he doesn't get it. If he doesn't open up to us, he has no one. He's going into this all by himself! He can't do that!" Hermione was becoming hysterical.
"Calm down Hermione!" Ron said uneasily, "We'll get Lupin talk to him, and we'll figure something out."
Hermione glanced down and noticed Ron's hand was still on her wrist. She calmed down a bit and smiled to herself, "You're right, Ron. Everything will be okay."
******************
The trip to Headquarters passed fairly uneventfully. They used a portkey (a coffee mug) to take them to Grimwauld Place and walked from there.
Remus Lupin greeted them at the door with a weary smile and ushered them inside, speaking to Mrs. Weasley as the walked to the kitchen, "Bill and Charlie, as you know, having been living and working out of here. They'll be back later tonight and Arthur said he'll come by after work." At Mrs. Weasley's nod, Remus turned to Harry.
"How are you doing, Harry?" Remus inquired, concern evident in his soft voice.
"I'm fine," Harry snapped, a little more harsh than necessary. He knew he should have apologized, but he was sick of people asking him that stupid question. Especially now that he would be staying in his dead godfather's house. How did they think he was? "I'm tired, Professor, I think I'm just going to unpack and go to sleep."
Lupin looked a little disappointed, "Okay. And Harry, I'm not your professor anymore, please call me Remus."
Harry nodded tightly and headed upstairs. Ron started to go after him, but Ginny grabbed his arm, "Ron leave him alone. If he wanted company he wouldn't have fled."
Ron shot Ginny a questioning look, but didn't say anything more. She smirked knowingly and turned to Hermione and Lupin, "I'm going to help Mum cook dinner, I'll see you guys later."
Hermione studied Lupin meticulously. He looked like hell. His blonde hair was graying and he'd lost weight. The circles under his eyes were evidence that he hadn't been sleeping well. Losing Sirius and focusing on defeating Voldemort at the same time had taken its toll on their former professor.
"Actually, Remus." Ron paused, "Remus - that sounds strange. Anyway we were hoping you could talk to Harry a bit."
"Talk to Harry about what?"
"Being a little less.candid." Ron said
Lupin sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table, "What makes you think he'll listen to me?"
"Well," Ron said, frustrated, "He's not listening to us."
There was a pause, and then Hermione spoke with a strangled desperation, "That cool, secretive demeanor you just witness, Remus.he's like that most of the time. He barely even speaks to us anymore. We're worried something is going to happen," Her voice cracked, "Someone could get hurt again."
Lupin ran his hands over his face. "Alright, I'll talk to him, but I don't think its going to solve anything. If he doesn't want to open up, he's not going to. Maybe all he needs is a little time."
Hermione took a shaky breath, "We may not have time."
The door swung open as Hermione finished and Tonks entered the room, effectively killing the conversation. "Molly says to wash your hands and come into the dining hall for dinner."
Tonks was a stark contrast to Lupin's weathered, tired appearance. She was vibrant and bright as ever. Her pink hair was glowing as she hugged Hermione and shook hands with Ron.
Remus watched her with a quiet smile. She noticed and flashed him a toothy grin, "Go wash your hands, Remus, Molly's orders."
"Yes mum," He replied sweetly.
Dinner was excellent, in everyone's opinion. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mad-Eye, and Snape (unfortunately) had joined them. Arthur had come home from work in time to eat and the mealtime conversation fluctuated back and forth between muggle relations and the lack of action taken by Voldemort.
A half-hour later, Ron sat back and patted his stomach thoughtfully, "I'm stuffed, that was excellent, Mum."
Everyone groaned in agreement."
"Well," Hermione said, "I'll start cleaning up."
Ginny jumped up; "I'll help!"
The girls exited the room, chattering loudly about Ginny's breakup with Dean Thomas. Everybody else followed, doing his or her part in tidying up.
Only Harry remained at the table, sitting motionless. So Ginny and Dean had broken up. For some reason that made Harry very happy, he couldn't help it, and it bothered him that he felt this way. Why should he care who she dated? She was Ron's little sister for godsake! 'Only she's not so little anymore,' thought Harry. He watched her auburn hair bounce as she giggled at Hermione's joke. Ginny had become quite the catch. Could life get more ironic?
Before his thoughts could continue, Harry was jolted from his reverie by the ringing of the doorbell and Mrs. Black shrill screams. Seeing no one around, Harry got up to answer the door. He turned the brass knob and pulled the thick door open, fully expecting to see Bill or Charlie.
Instead, he found himself staring into deep-set blue-green eyes that he recognized vaguely from somewhere. The woman he was looking at was very beautiful and her high cheekbones lifted up as she smiled. She had thick, straight, blonde hair that fell to her waist. She was wearing a black cloak over blue jeans and a red T-shirt, accentuating her curvy figure.
"Hello, Harry," she said with such ease that Harry was taken aback.
He said nothing, as he tried unsuccessfully to place her face. Finally, he gave up and asked, "Do I know-?"
"No," She cut him off gently, "Well, we've met, but you don't really know me. There'll be time for that later, though. Is Remus here?"
"Er, yeah, I'll go get him."
"Thanks," she stood just inside the doorway as if she were afraid to come in any farther.
Harry turned in search of Lupin. After checking a few rooms, he found him in the living room, sipping a butterbeer and talking with Tonks.
"Prof- er, Remus. There's someone here to see you, says she's an old friend," Harry said politely.
Remus's brow furrowed. An old friend? Who could that be? All his old friends were dead. He excused himself and followed Harry out into the main hall. As Remus rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of golden hair and his eyes locked with a sea of blue-green. And his butterbeer fell to the floor and shattered.
He was gaping like a fish. "Trinity?" He whispered, barley believing his own eyes.
She flashed him a devious smirk, "Miss me, Remus?" And then she threw herself into his arms. Lupin stood completely still for a moment, then hugged her tightly, still numb from shock. He placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead. Harry watched the scene with piquing curiosity.
Remus pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, he laughed jubilantly. "How? Why?" He began, unable to find the words, "I figured you were never coming back!"
She chuckled softly, "To tell you the truth, I wasn't planning to."
Remus eyes were still wide with disbelief when he asked the question that Harry was aching for, "Then what the hell are you doing here, Trinity?"
Her disposition shifted as she became rigid and serious, "I'm here," she said, dragging her eyes away from Remus's and onto Harry's, "To bring back Sirius."
******************
*A/N: well, that's Trinity, hope you guys like her, I think you will, she's pretty cool. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'll post the next chapter real soon! I promise!
"The sun goes down in my eyes.
See this rolling wave - darkly coming to take me
home"
All Harry knew was that his scar hurt. No, not hurt, his scar killed. It was sending white-hot shocks through his entire body, nearly immobilizing him. Wherever he was, it was so dark that he couldn't see two feet in front of him. He groped the wall, trying to pull himself up. As he stood, the pain seemed to subside a bit and he slowly started walking, though where to, he had no idea. The hall smelled of blood and smoke, a scent that didn't sit quite comfortably with Harry. He began to shiver slightly, at the prospect of where his footsteps were leading him. He had a nagging feeling, which was supported intensely by the throbbing of his scar, that this had something to do with Voldemort. The scent of blood grew steadily thicker as Harry continued walking.
He heard the voice before he saw the dim light. It was a quietly vicious, but steady voice that Harry knew all too well. It was whispering deviously so low that Harry's ears couldn't pick up its words. He could see dim candlelight coming from the room where the voice was. Harry tiptoed closer, both terrified and intrigued. The smell of blood was becoming unbearable, and Harry was sure he was going to be sick. As he neared the doorway, the candlelight became much brighter, and lit up the wall around him. Harry swallowed hard as he realized he were in a dungeon, probably far underground. He could hear someone crying, but so softly that he could have mistaken it for his imagination. He was just outside of the room now, but too fearful to turn and risk a glance. He had never felt this frightened before, it was a terror that seized every single part of his body, until he could breathe anymore.
That creepy, ominous voice began to speak again, "It's so very simple," It laughed harshly, leaving Harry jarred, "It is so very easy. I can't imagine why I didn't see it before." There was a pause, and then the voice whispered, barely audible, "You, my dear, are the key." There was more harsh laughter, another pause, and then the most alarming, blood curling, feminine scream Harry had ever heard.
Harry awoke with a start, and filled his lungs with the air he didn't know he'd been depriving them of. He was on the floor in Ron's room. Ron was staring down at him, clearly alarmed. Hermione was kneeling over him, talking in jumbles. Harry put his hand up and Hermione stopped talking,
"What happened?" he asked.
We were up here discussing Quidditch and who's most likely to win the cup this year and you just passed out, Harry! Oh, you gave us such a fright!" Hermione exclaimed, gripping Harry's arm painfully.
"Yeah, I remember the Quidditch, but that's all. How long was I out?" He sat up, and his back ached slightly.
Ron ran a hand through his red hair, "Couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes."
Harry leaned his head against Ron's bed. The dream had certainly felt longer than a couple of minutes. Hell, it had felt like forever. His scar still stung and he could still smell blood everywhere - and that scream. It was just completely unnerving. That dream had been so real. Harry sighed, weighing his options. Ron and Hermione would know it had been a dream. But he'd been having vivid dreams since Voldemort had risen again and Sirius had died, why should he worry about this one? 'Because this one was different', a voice in the back of Harry's head told him. He shook it off. He was dreaming because Voldemort was powerful now, nothing had changed, and no one had time to worry about some sixteen-year-old's nightmares.
"You had a dream," Hermione said, and it wasn't a question, "Does your scar hurt, too?"
Harry stood up and plopped down on the bed Mrs. Weasley had set up for him. He took a deep breath and looked up at Hermione, "It stings a bit, not too bad, though."
Ron sat down next to him, "Was it about Sirius again?"
"Er, no, this one was different from the others." Reading the questioning looks, Harry began to describe the dream, albeit reluctantly, in some detail.
When he finished describing the girl's scream, Hermione spoke eagerly, "Harry that dream definetly has meaning! You should tell Dumbledore, someone could be in danger."
It wasn't as though Harry hadn't thought of that, his instincts just told him to keep it between them. He shook his head forcefully, "No, Hermione, not every dream has a prophetic meaning. Besides, Dumbledore is too busy to be bothered with my dreams. It doesn't mean anything."
Ron arched an eyebrow, "But what if it does? Maybe Hermione has a point." Harry smiled, it wasn't often that Ron and Hermione agreed upon anything these days, their bickering was nearing breaking point. Ron didn't notice Harry's smile and kept talking, "Not all your dreams are this explicit. This one is different. It wouldn't hurt to tell someone. Maybe Lupin? Or Mad-Eye?"
Harry racked his brain trying to find a way to make his friends see that he was better off keeping it to himself. "Look, I have dreams all the time, this is nothing new." He paused, but quickly started speaking again when Hermione opened her mouth to say something, "I promise if it happens again, I'll tell someone, okay?"
Ron and Hermione looked at each other helplessly, both knowing that if Harry didn't want help, they couldn't help him. Hermione sighed, frustrated, sometimes Harry was so damn self-righteous.
Harry stood up, feeling awkward, knowing that the mood had changed. In the last few months, something had changed between Ron and Hermione. They were either incessantly fighting or gazing at each other strangely. The mood between them could change so quickly and Harry knew there was something happening beneath the surface that neither Ron, nor the ever-perceptive Hermione could put their fingers on. Sometimes, he just felt awkward around them. Now was one of those times. "I'm going to get some breakfast, I'll see you two in a bit."
Ron mumbled something inaudible and Hermione nodded as Harry left. Ron reached over and gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry so much 'Mione."
She looked up quickly, surprised at the Un-Ron-like gesture, to see him blushing furiously and avoiding her eyes. She smiled, putting her hand on top of his, "Thanks, I just can't help it though, he's been so guarded lately."
She looked distressed and Ron hated when she looked like that, "That's how he is, I think he's just trying to protect us, " he said.
"He going to wind up getting one of us killed."
"It's because of Sirius. He's afraid of losing one of us again, you know that. He's just worried like you," Ron said comfortingly.
"Ron, he doesn't get it. If he doesn't open up to us, he has no one. He's going into this all by himself! He can't do that!" Hermione was becoming hysterical.
"Calm down Hermione!" Ron said uneasily, "We'll get Lupin talk to him, and we'll figure something out."
Hermione glanced down and noticed Ron's hand was still on her wrist. She calmed down a bit and smiled to herself, "You're right, Ron. Everything will be okay."
******************
The trip to Headquarters passed fairly uneventfully. They used a portkey (a coffee mug) to take them to Grimwauld Place and walked from there.
Remus Lupin greeted them at the door with a weary smile and ushered them inside, speaking to Mrs. Weasley as the walked to the kitchen, "Bill and Charlie, as you know, having been living and working out of here. They'll be back later tonight and Arthur said he'll come by after work." At Mrs. Weasley's nod, Remus turned to Harry.
"How are you doing, Harry?" Remus inquired, concern evident in his soft voice.
"I'm fine," Harry snapped, a little more harsh than necessary. He knew he should have apologized, but he was sick of people asking him that stupid question. Especially now that he would be staying in his dead godfather's house. How did they think he was? "I'm tired, Professor, I think I'm just going to unpack and go to sleep."
Lupin looked a little disappointed, "Okay. And Harry, I'm not your professor anymore, please call me Remus."
Harry nodded tightly and headed upstairs. Ron started to go after him, but Ginny grabbed his arm, "Ron leave him alone. If he wanted company he wouldn't have fled."
Ron shot Ginny a questioning look, but didn't say anything more. She smirked knowingly and turned to Hermione and Lupin, "I'm going to help Mum cook dinner, I'll see you guys later."
Hermione studied Lupin meticulously. He looked like hell. His blonde hair was graying and he'd lost weight. The circles under his eyes were evidence that he hadn't been sleeping well. Losing Sirius and focusing on defeating Voldemort at the same time had taken its toll on their former professor.
"Actually, Remus." Ron paused, "Remus - that sounds strange. Anyway we were hoping you could talk to Harry a bit."
"Talk to Harry about what?"
"Being a little less.candid." Ron said
Lupin sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table, "What makes you think he'll listen to me?"
"Well," Ron said, frustrated, "He's not listening to us."
There was a pause, and then Hermione spoke with a strangled desperation, "That cool, secretive demeanor you just witness, Remus.he's like that most of the time. He barely even speaks to us anymore. We're worried something is going to happen," Her voice cracked, "Someone could get hurt again."
Lupin ran his hands over his face. "Alright, I'll talk to him, but I don't think its going to solve anything. If he doesn't want to open up, he's not going to. Maybe all he needs is a little time."
Hermione took a shaky breath, "We may not have time."
The door swung open as Hermione finished and Tonks entered the room, effectively killing the conversation. "Molly says to wash your hands and come into the dining hall for dinner."
Tonks was a stark contrast to Lupin's weathered, tired appearance. She was vibrant and bright as ever. Her pink hair was glowing as she hugged Hermione and shook hands with Ron.
Remus watched her with a quiet smile. She noticed and flashed him a toothy grin, "Go wash your hands, Remus, Molly's orders."
"Yes mum," He replied sweetly.
Dinner was excellent, in everyone's opinion. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mad-Eye, and Snape (unfortunately) had joined them. Arthur had come home from work in time to eat and the mealtime conversation fluctuated back and forth between muggle relations and the lack of action taken by Voldemort.
A half-hour later, Ron sat back and patted his stomach thoughtfully, "I'm stuffed, that was excellent, Mum."
Everyone groaned in agreement."
"Well," Hermione said, "I'll start cleaning up."
Ginny jumped up; "I'll help!"
The girls exited the room, chattering loudly about Ginny's breakup with Dean Thomas. Everybody else followed, doing his or her part in tidying up.
Only Harry remained at the table, sitting motionless. So Ginny and Dean had broken up. For some reason that made Harry very happy, he couldn't help it, and it bothered him that he felt this way. Why should he care who she dated? She was Ron's little sister for godsake! 'Only she's not so little anymore,' thought Harry. He watched her auburn hair bounce as she giggled at Hermione's joke. Ginny had become quite the catch. Could life get more ironic?
Before his thoughts could continue, Harry was jolted from his reverie by the ringing of the doorbell and Mrs. Black shrill screams. Seeing no one around, Harry got up to answer the door. He turned the brass knob and pulled the thick door open, fully expecting to see Bill or Charlie.
Instead, he found himself staring into deep-set blue-green eyes that he recognized vaguely from somewhere. The woman he was looking at was very beautiful and her high cheekbones lifted up as she smiled. She had thick, straight, blonde hair that fell to her waist. She was wearing a black cloak over blue jeans and a red T-shirt, accentuating her curvy figure.
"Hello, Harry," she said with such ease that Harry was taken aback.
He said nothing, as he tried unsuccessfully to place her face. Finally, he gave up and asked, "Do I know-?"
"No," She cut him off gently, "Well, we've met, but you don't really know me. There'll be time for that later, though. Is Remus here?"
"Er, yeah, I'll go get him."
"Thanks," she stood just inside the doorway as if she were afraid to come in any farther.
Harry turned in search of Lupin. After checking a few rooms, he found him in the living room, sipping a butterbeer and talking with Tonks.
"Prof- er, Remus. There's someone here to see you, says she's an old friend," Harry said politely.
Remus's brow furrowed. An old friend? Who could that be? All his old friends were dead. He excused himself and followed Harry out into the main hall. As Remus rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of golden hair and his eyes locked with a sea of blue-green. And his butterbeer fell to the floor and shattered.
He was gaping like a fish. "Trinity?" He whispered, barley believing his own eyes.
She flashed him a devious smirk, "Miss me, Remus?" And then she threw herself into his arms. Lupin stood completely still for a moment, then hugged her tightly, still numb from shock. He placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead. Harry watched the scene with piquing curiosity.
Remus pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, he laughed jubilantly. "How? Why?" He began, unable to find the words, "I figured you were never coming back!"
She chuckled softly, "To tell you the truth, I wasn't planning to."
Remus eyes were still wide with disbelief when he asked the question that Harry was aching for, "Then what the hell are you doing here, Trinity?"
Her disposition shifted as she became rigid and serious, "I'm here," she said, dragging her eyes away from Remus's and onto Harry's, "To bring back Sirius."
******************
*A/N: well, that's Trinity, hope you guys like her, I think you will, she's pretty cool. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'll post the next chapter real soon! I promise!