A/N: Yea… I updated early! I am trying my best to keep the sequel of Bring Me to Life to be as compelling and dramatic, seeing that so many of my reviewers liked the prequel. However, I feel that I am losing my audience in my attempt to be mysterious about these new dreams Harry has been having. My reviewers do not seem as happy with this fic. There is a reason why they are vague and confusing right now. I hope this chapter clears up some of the confusion for Harry as well as for my readers.

Chapter 7- A Slytherin Solution

Harry toweled himself off after having finished a hot shower. He then proceeded to walk into his abandoned dorm room and get dressed in some muggle jeans and a t-shirt. He sat down on his bed thoughtfully wondering what he should do. He really hadn't had a moment's peace for a long while, and he contemplated taking a quick nap before he was due to meet his friends in the library for another late night study session.

The last couple of weeks had passed in an absolute blur. Harry's energy level was still running somewhat low due to the many sleepless nights and a general lack of appetite, but he found himself in rather good spirits when he was around Draco and his friends. They were always finding a way to cheer him up. Just last night he found himself in the middle of a snow ball fight after Quidditch practice. Harry and Ron had been walking in from the pitch when they were suddenly ambushed by Draco, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. It was one of the first snow falls of the year and everyone was in a childish mood. Ron and Harry teamed up against their attackers and somehow managed to overcome them. They were begging for mercy before it was all over. It felt good to Harry to play like a kid since he never had many opportunities while he was growing up.

He was beginning to feel like he had some sort of split personality. He was more like his old self around those who cared about him, but when he was alone a strange darkness consumed his heart and plagued his mind. He couldn't even put a name to what he was feeling anymore. At first he just thought it was depression, but now it seemed to be so much more. He knew deep down that the darkness had something to do with his strange dreams. They were puzzling to say the least, and they always left him feeling disoriented. Harry had tried to use his pensieve to rid his mind of anything that might be triggering these dreams, but they came almost every night just the same. Most of the time, the images in his dreams were fragmented, but recently they had begun to get clearer and clearer. For now he was keeping them private. His friends had just started to believe that he was his old self again, and he didn't want to give them any other cause to be alarmed. He felt like he had already asked too much from them, and he was determined to figure this out on his own.

As usual this year, Harry began delving again into his studies, mainly as a way to keep his mind off everything that was troubling him, but also because he had developed a passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Some would say it was because of his numerous encounters with Voldemort and the fact that the wizarding world was at war. But truthfully Harry enjoyed knowing that he was becoming more and more equipped at handling himself in any situation. It also helped that your dad's best friend happened to be quite a good teacher. Professor Lupin's general enthusiasm for the subject rubbed off on most of his students.

He rubbed at his tired eyes thoughtfully. He was still feeling somewhat fatigued. Harry sighed deeply and decided that a nap may do him some good. He lay down on his bed fully clothed, as he had been doing a lot recently, and shut his eyes. Sleep came almost instantly as it often does when a body is overworked and overtired.

In his dream, Harry found himself sitting in the empty top most row of seats in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. It was apparent that he was sitting there during a torrential downpour. The wind whipped around the stands roaring in an almost demonic tone. It was difficult to see through the rain and the darkness, but it appeared that a game was going on. The stands were filled with students and staff alike despite the unfavorable weather. Everyone's clothes were soaking wet even though many had umbrellas.

Suddenly, it dawned on Harry that the two teams playing were from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as they were wearing their house colors. One player in particular was circling the stands high into the air apparently looking for the Snitch. The boy had black hair and glasses and was flying on a Nimbus Two Thousand. Then the realization set in that he was actually watching himself play Quidditch, which was a surreal experience in itself as he had never been an outsider in his own dreams before. He felt so detached from what was going on.

He watched himself as he swerved in the powerful wind desperately holding onto his broom. The opponents on each team were having difficulty trying to navigate in the blackened sky. No one seemed to even notice the bludgers that were sailing about the stands heedless of the rain, not even the beaters whose job it was to protect their own teammates. Things were getting even more serious as the sky filled with lightening and the rumblings of thunder. During one particular flash of lightening, Harry could see himself glance in this direction. The look on his own face was a mixture of surprise and of horror.

Before he could contemplate this strange situation further, an eerie silence fell over the stands as though someone turned off the sound. A horrible wave of cold overcame him and he felt hollow and sad inside. It was as though he was filled with inexplicable grief. He knew this familiar feeling and glanced around quickly.

Dementors! At least a hundred Dementors had suddenly entered the pitch, and all of them were looking up at the Harry flying on the broom. Their unnatural bodies were hooded in dark black cloaks, effectively disguising the horrors that lay beneath.

"No, don't hurt him. You have come for me," Harry thought to himself wildly.

Then he watched in horror as the Harry on the broom began to waver and finally fell from fifty feet above onto the damp ground below. He leapt up from the stands and began to race down towards the field at an alarming speed knowing that he had to check on the small boy below.

It was then that he saw Albus Dumbledore come onto the field. His presence was almost as frightening as the Dementors themselves. In his fury over the situation he was able to slow the other Harry down in his descent and then cast away the Dementors with several powerful Patronus charms. Many of the students and staff had joined Dumbledore on the field and were checking on the other Harry's condition.

Realizing that there was nothing more he could do, he ran off in the opposite direction hoping to escape without detection. During his flee Harry glanced down at the wet earth in order to see where he was going in the gloomy darkness. It was then that he fully began to comprehend that he was not running on two legs, he was running on all fours. Furthermore, his feet were not clad with the shoes he normally wore. Instead, large black paws reached out in front of him as he raced to get away.

He awoke with a sudden jolt. His heart was pounding and his breathing was somewhat labored like he was actually running away from something like in his dream. He jumped up and quickly glanced down at his hands and feet remembering the large black paws that he had had just moments ago.

It was as if a light bulb went off in his brain as the sudden reality of what was happening hit him. Quidditch… rain… Dementors… falling off a broom… third year… black paws… Padfoot… Sirius… Oh gods… Sirius! Harry finally put all the pieces of the puzzle together and realized that dream had been an actual memory, but one that wasn't his own. He had watched himself playing Quidditch. It was as if he had been reliving that event through Sirius's eyes, who had come to see him play in his animagus form. Why? Why was this happening? Why was he dreaming about his dead godfather?

Harry was overcome by the brevity of the situation and fell back onto his bed with dizziness. His head felt like it was spinning as he thought about the dream over and over again. Did his other dreams have anything to do with this one? Were those other dreams memories of Sirius too? I must be crazy!

The more he thought about his godfather, the more he ached to see him again. He felt robbed of the only parental figure he had every truly known. He wished he were here now so that Harry could talk to him about this, but he knew that his passing was the result of his own mistakes, mistakes that proved to be fatal. Harry quickly stifled a sob that had begun to form in the back of his throat. He was feeling such emotional pain that he felt the need to release it somehow. Harry thought back to how he had dealt with things before, and he remembered those bittersweet seconds in which he was able to forget his emotions and feel something real as he sliced his skin open. He had thought about cutting several times since then, but he had upheld his promise to Draco.

He was just about to find something to release the insanity he was feeling when he heard the dormitory open up. He quickly regained his composure as Ron walked in the room.

"Hey mate, I thought we could walk down to the library together. The rest of the gang is already there."

"Oh, okay," Harry said softly. He was feeling a little unsteady and it was getting more and more difficult to keep up the façade that he was okay to his friends. He took a deep breath and pushed his thoughts about Sirius and cutting out of his mind. He was still feeling a little apprehensive and he hoped that it wasn't showing. The last thing he needed was Ron worrying about him again.

"Are you alright?" asked Ron curiously as he came towards his best friend.

"Yeah, just a bit tired," he replied slowly.

"Well, maybe you should get some rest. In fact, maybe I need some rest too," said Ron as he tried to pull off an obviously fake yawn. "If you're not going, I'm not going."

"Nice try, Ron. You just don't want to go," said Harry smiling as he gathered up the things he needed to go study. He knew that if he stayed behind Ron would stay by his side to get out of studying. He needed to get some work done for Potions anyway so he decided that it was better to go and do what he needed to get done. Snape had begun to assign more and more homework seemingly to make up for having had to cancel classes.

"No, I don't. I am so sick of studying," Ron whined.

"So don't go," said Harry as he walked past Ron and down the stairs.

Ron groaned in annoyance behind him and followed him out of the common room.

"I thought you weren't coming," said Harry in amusement.

"I have to," Ron replied with some resignation. "I promised 'Mione."

"Do you do everything she tells you?" Harry asked jokingly. His good natured self was thankfully slipping back into place.

"Shut up, Harry," warned Ron. "I can't wait for the holidays when I get to sleep in and do nothing all day long."

"That does sound pretty good, but I can't imagine your mum allowing that," said Harry thoughtfully.

"No she doesn't, but a guy can dream."

They found the others already hard at work in the library set out at the various tables that were clustered together. Harry slid into a chair beside Draco. He was close enough to the blond that he could lean against him nonchalantly and breathe in his scent. He inhaled deeply and smiled. He loved being close to him. The warmth his body gave off was always reassuring.

"Hey," said Draco as he smiled at Harry.

"Hey yourself," said Harry looking away. He felt guilty for even thinking about harming himself again and he couldn't bring himself to look his boyfriend in the eye. Draco eyed him thoughtfully and Harry was sure that he knew something was amiss. He tried to hide to the fact that he was uncomfortable by setting out his things.

Draco looked about the library and saw that there were not many other people here this time of night and risked making contact with him. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "What's wrong? I know something is bothering you."

"Not now Draco, please," Harry knew better than to argue with him as Draco was pretty good at reading his emotions. He just hoped to save this conversation for a later time and with less people around.

"Alright, but I am not going to let you hide your feelings from me," said Draco. "I'll be right back. I need to get a few books for some research I am doing." The blond quickly stood up and whispered "I love you" in his ear as his lips brushed lightly across his cheek. The movement was so expertly carried out that you would have only noticed the public display of affection if you were sitting directly across from them. Harry was somewhat shocked at Draco's behavior and he smiled at his boyfriend's daring nature.

Harry realized that he too needed some books to complete his Potions homework. He went to the stacks of book shelves that contained potion research and information. After quite a few minutes of searching, he found a few that looked promising. He carried the heavy books back to his seat and began looking for what he needed. Draco was still looking for his own books so Harry was able to use most of the table to open up the largest and oldest of the books he found. It was an old text on potions used in the process of healing. He flipped through the pages half-heartedly until he came upon something rather interesting.

"Dreamless Sleep Potion…." Harry said aloud. He quickly glanced about and realized that no one had heard them. Ginny and Neville had disappeared somewhere, Hermione was questioning Madame Pince about a rare book she was searching for, and Ron was fast asleep with his head laying on one of his textbooks. Drool was dripping onto the parchment he had been writing on just moments before.

Harry eyed the potion thoughtfully. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey had refused to allow him to take any more sleeping draughts because they feared he may become addicted. They also believed that he was no longer having nightmares since he received the pensieve so there was no reason to believe that he should still need one. Harry contemplated the idea of making one himself. He skimmed the directions and found that it wasn't too difficult. The idea of making the potion was starting to sound better and better. Maybe he could finally rid himself of those awful dreams and get a full night's rest for once. He was so tired of running on empty.

He began to quickly scribble the information he needed onto a parchment. It was only when he had finished that he realized that he would not be able to obtain one of the ingredients necessary. Dragon's blood is somewhat rare and can only be obtained by a licensed Potions master. There didn't seem like a way that he would be able to make it after all. He was just about to throw it away when Hermione grabbed the parchment away from him.

"Hey, what's this?" she asked curiously. Her eyes skimmed over its contents. Her mouth opened in shock as she realized what she was looking at. She was too smart for her own good. She had known what the potion was even though Harry had not written down its name.

"It's not what you think…" Harry tried to explain.

She looked at him incredulously. "Oh, I know it is exactly what I think. These are directions to make a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Why would you need to make this? You said you weren't having nightmares anymore. You lied to us."

"Lied to us about what?" asked Draco as he sat down next to Harry with his own pile of books.

"This!" said Hermione as she showed Draco the parchment.

He looked at it thoughtfully for a bit. "Am I supposed to understand what this is or something?" he asked.

Hermione scowled in frustration. "Draco these are the instructions on how to make a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Snape hasn't assigned us anything like this so why would Harry need to make one unless he has been lying to us about his nightmares."

"Is this true, Harry? Are you going to try a make a sleeping draught?" Draco looked at his boyfriend with surprise and frustration.

"I don't know. Maybe," said Harry sounding defeated.

"Why?" asked Draco and Hermione at the same time.

"I just can't sleep okay. I am worried about everything going on and I can't keep my mind from thinking about things. I am tired of being tired all the time."

"Have you tried asking for one from the school nurse?" asked Hermione.

"She won't let me. Neither will Dumbledore. They say I have to deal with my problems without relying on some potion to make me forget," Harry admitted.

"Well it is addictive," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "Are you sure that is all that is bothering you? You know you can talk to us any time you want."

"I know Hermione. I am fine. Besides, I can't make it anyway. One of the ingredients is restricted. I was going to throw it away."

"You're right," said Hermione as she perused the list once again. "Then you won't mind if I threw this out."

"Go right ahead," said Harry. He watched as the bushy haired girl crumpled up the parchment and threw it into a wastepaper basket. She then walked over to where Ron was sleeping and poked him in the side to wake him up.

"Huh? What?" the red haired boy asked as he wiped away his own drool. "I wasn't sleeping. I was just resting my eyes."

"Sure, right…." replied Hermione as she sat down beside him. She resumed studying quietly, but every now and then she would glance over in Harry's direction. Lines of worry were already becoming present in her forehead. It was only a matter of time before she began pestering him for answers once again.

Draco was looking quite hurt about something. Harry sighed and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I thought you would always come to me when something was bothering you. I feel like you are keeping secrets from me."

"I'm not, I swear!" said Harry knowing full well he was lying to his boyfriend. He wasn't ready to share what had been bothering him until he fully understood what was going on.

"Whatever," Draco muttered as he got back to studying. He knew that Harry was hiding something, and it bothered it him that he didn't trust him enough to tell him what was going on.

They continued to work in absolute silence. Although Draco and Hermione said nothing, the body language spoke volumes. It was clear by their postures and the way the kept looking over at him that they were both angry and worried about Harry. A short while later, Madame Pince ordered the rest of the students out so that she could lock up the library. They gathered up their things and tiredly began to walk out.

Harry lagged behind a bit. When he was sure that the others wouldn't hear him, he used a spell to retrieve the parchment that Hermione had thrown out. "Accio potions list," he whispered Harry caught the list easily and shoved the crumpled ball of parchment into his pocket without the others ever noticing. He had changed his mind after all.

Later that night Harry found himself beneath his invisibility cloak walking through the dungeons long after everyone had gone to bed. He was determined to get a full night's rest for once. He was thoroughly exhausted and he knew that he would fall asleep instantly if he tried, but he was afraid of what he would dream of when he was asleep.

He resigned himself to the only solution he could think of at the moment. Steal what he needed from Snape's private stash. It seemed like such an underhanded thing to do. Steal from a professor… It seemed like something a Slytherin would do, but then again the sorting hat had wanted to put him in that house. Sure, they had borrowed ingredients from Snape in the past. They once created a polyjuice potion in their second year when they were trying to figure out who was the heir to Slytherin. But the ingredients were never from his private collection.

He soon found himself in Snape's office, which is adjacent to the Potions' classroom. Fortunately, the door was unexpectedly left unlocked. He quickly scanned the room and noticed that the large wooden cabinet that housed the most toxic, rare, and precious potions ingredients was on the far wall. He was fairly confident that he could unlock the cabinet without being detected. He was forever thankful that his father's invisibility cloak was one of the few things that he was able to save from the Dursleys.

He crossed the room and browsed the contents behind the glass doors. He quickly skimmed each shelf examining the various bottles and vials. He soon found what he was looking for… dragon's blood. But he soon made a more interesting discovery. On the shelf below the dragon's blood was a bottle labeled: Dreamless Sleep Potion. Harry couldn't imagine his luck. He wouldn't have to waste time making the potion himself. He could just lift this one from Snape.

He stepped back and observed the cabinet fully. He couldn't detect any magical barriers or wards preventing him from unlocking the cabinet. He decided to start with the simplest spell first. He raised his wand and quietly said, "Alohamora."

Nothing appeared to happen at first, but suddenly an electric bolt shot out from the cabinet and stuck his wand hand, sending the electric blue light through the rest of his body. It was over before he even knew what happened, but he was still on the floor writhing in pain. The blow had caused the invisibility cloak to fly off of him, and was currently lying in a silvery heap on the floor. What the hell was that?

Before he could contemplate it further, he felt a pair of hands grab him roughly. His first instinct caused him to flinch and to shy away from his attacker expecting the hands to start beating him, but the hands set him upright and did not bring him any harm. He opened his eyes and realized that the hands belonged to none other than Professor Snape, and he looked pissed. "Oh shit!" Harry thought to himself.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" yelled Snape.

"I…I…um… I…" Harry stuttered as he backed away from the angry professor.

"I know you tried to break into the cabinet. The same wards that shocked you alerted me that you were breaking in. I was awoken from a sound sleep. Now tell me what you needed to steal from me at this ungodly hour!"

"I…I…" Harry tried to explain but he was still reeling from the electric shock he had received. His hand was still throbbing painfully. He grasped it firmly with his left hand trying to lessen the pain.

Snape scowled at him fiercely, and then opened up the cabinet using the palm of his right hand. "It must only recognize his magical signature," thought Harry. He grabbed one of the vials and handed it to him. "Here, drink it. It will heal your hand."

Harry eyed the vial suspiciously, but seeing the look on his professor's face he decided to drink it anyway. It took only mere seconds for the pain in his hand to diminish completely. "Better?" asked Snape without a trace of concern in his voice. Harry nodded dumbly. "Then answer my question!"

"I…I wanted…" Harry was about to answer him when his eyes involuntarily averted his gaze to the Dreamless Sleep Potion. It happened for only a second, but it was enough to give away the true nature of why he was here. Snape nodded in understanding, but looked no less angry with him.

"Potter, my patience is wearing thin. Now tell me why you wanted the Dreamless Sleep Potion. I thought Dumbledore gave you a pensive to rid you of your troubles."

"He did," said Harry. "But I am having dreams now that are making it difficult for me to sleep. They are strange and confusing, and then pensieve isn't helping me with them. Since they won't let me take a potion, I thought I could make one myself."

"Have you told anyone about these dreams?"

"No," said Harry honestly.

"Are you going to tell Draco?" Snape asked curiously. He knew how close the two boys were because Draco was his godson.

"I don't know," said Harry.

"Do you want to tell me about them?" Snape asked in a tired voice.

"No!" said Harry rather loudly.

"Well, I am disappointed and shocked to find you stealing from me. I didn't think you had the nerve in you to do such a thing. Although I suspect that this might not be the first time you have helped yourself to one of my ingredients. 100 points from Gryffindor and you have a week's worth of detentions."

Harry nodded slowly feeling defeated. "There isn't any chance that I could have…"

"No, you may not have the potion. You are lucky I am not having you reported to the headmaster. You could have been expelled for this. It is only out of the fondness for my godson that I am trying to be civil to you. I am still angry by your actions during occlumency last year."

Harry knew he was talking about when he looked into his pensieve, but he decided not to push the matter.

"You will be here tomorrow at six o'clock for your first detention. Don't be late!"

"Yes, sir," said Harry as he turned to leave. He grabbed his father's cloak from off the floor on the way out of the office. He walked down the dungeon's corridors with a heavy heart, knowing that he had once again failed to do something right. He felt as if he was eternally cursed or something.

Although he was thoroughly exhausted, he somehow made it back to his dorm room in the Gryffindor Tower. He listened quietly to the sounds of his dorm mates snoring and breathing softly. He was determined not to fall asleep if possible. He was still replaying the dream he had earlier this evening over and over in his head and he wasn't sure if he wanted to have another dream like it. It had been so strange. Why would he dream from Sirius's perspective? If this was how his mind was dealing with his unending grief, then it was morbidly wrong. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

His thoughts still on his godfather, he decided to do something that he hadn't done in quite a while. He pulled out the old leather journal that Remus had given him for his birthday. He was hoping that reading would help delay the inevitable sleep that would claim him. He caressed the cover of his godfather's precious journal and lovingly fingered Sirius's name. He then turned a page randomly at the center of the book. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, and began to read. He was shocked by what he saw within the pages…

April 28…. I have been hearing some rumors that Regulus has finally joined the Death Eaters. I am sure our parents are quite proud seeing that he was always there golden child. I haven't been home in nearly a year, and I know that they thoroughly despise me. They have probably have already gone and blasted me off of that damned tapestry of theirs. I am scared for Regulus. I don't think he really knows what he is doing. He has always been so impressionable. For years my idiot brother has been listening to all that nonsense about purebloods that our parents have tried to cram down our throats. I tried to talk some sense into him, but since that day at the lake he has refused to speak to me. He feels that I abandoned him when I ran away. I tried to convince him that I had a place of my own now because of our uncle's money and that he could come live with me. But he refuses to listen to me now. I am afraid I have lost him forever...

After having read the enlightening journal entry, Harry began to recall the conversation that he and Sirius had had when he stayed at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place two summers ago. At the time he had been shocked to learn that Sirius's family were loyal supporters of Voldemort and that he had run away as a result. He also remembered that being told that his younger brother Regulus had joined Voldemort only to be killed by the Death Eaters when he tried to leave. Harry imagined that that his brother may have looked similar to Sirius, with long black hair and hazel eyes. "I tried to talk some sense into him, but since that day at the lake he has refused to speak to me," Harry read again from the journal entry.

Then as if the last puzzle piece was slipping into place, Harry remembered the dream he had from before. The one in which he was sitting beside the lake talking to a dark haired boy. "I left for a reason, little brother. I hate them, you know that. Mum and Dad are constantly on my case about everything that happens. And they have never let me forget the fact that the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor. I am always being compared to you and everything that you do. You are their golden child because you made it into Slytherin. Besides, I can't stand all the shit they say about my friends. I refuse to become like them!"

Harry started shaking as he realized that he was indeed reliving Sirius memories. Most of the dreams had been somewhat fragmented, but a few stood out as being especially clear. There had been the one about the Quidditch game, and now the one about the two boys sitting beside the lake. Even the first dream he had, in which he was verbally and physically accosted by some unknown man, could be one of Sirius's memories. In fact, it very well could have taken place after the prank the marauders pulled on Snape.

The fact that he was reliving Sirius's memories was both exhilarating and frightening. Everything was slipping into place. Everything was making sense now, except for one thing. Why?

He knew that these dreams could not be the work of his own subconscious imagination because some of the things that happened in the dreams he could have never possibly known about. So where were they coming from?

A/N: As it is obvious now, the dreams are from Sirius's memories. I hope that they are not to confusing to read. In a way, Harry is along for the ride in these dreams. His own subconscious mind can process what is going on, but he has not control over what his body (actually Sirius) says and does. You know, because they are memories, not really dreams. Does that make any sense? Why and how he is having these dreams will be revealed in time. They mean everything to the plot in this story. My beta did a lot of research for me about Sirius from books 3-5 so that I could be as close to canon as possible. I tried to be creative in designing Sirius's memories. I hope that this chapter satisfies everyone's curiosity.

Disclaimer: (Just in case!) The dream was adapted from the scene in POA, chapter 9, Grim Defeat written by J.K. Rowling and owned by some publisher. I do not own rights to it and I am asking nothing in return for using her ideas. (So there!)

Many thanks to all my reviewers and readers. And a thousand thanks to my beta, Drae.