It has been a while and I do apologise. I've had a major case of writers block yet again. Thanks to SiLvErFaTeD, Blackrose, SheWolfe7, Velven (guess I didn't update quickly enough to get a cookie? ^_^) sak, Jamie, Serpent of Light and Falafal for being patient. I know I always say this, but I promise to try and not leave it so long in future!

Just a warning, things get darker and downright weirder from now on. Just so's you're warned ^_^

Additional disclaimer: I should mention that the book behind the whole Sirius-being-alive portion of this fic is David Gemmell's excellent Knights of Dark Renown. If you're stuck for something to do while waiting for me to update, look it up. You won't be disappointed.  

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Harry was floating free of his body, soaring against the night sky. He could see Hogwarts below him, picturesque in the moonlight, bathed in an aura of indefinite colours,  while above him the stars shone stark and clear, robbed of the twinkling qualities that the Earth's atmosphere and human romanticism gave them. This was freedom, this was pure joy. Voldemort, Sirius, Bloodstones, NEWTs, Remedial Potions, Snape, Draco, Dumbledore – none of it mattered now. He didn't know how he had come to be here, but he didn't care. The world around him was so beautiful, he just wanted to stay here and fly forever.

He sped higher, so high that he could not even see Hogwarts anymore. All around him, the colours of the Universe flashed – green, blue, yellow, black, white, purple, all flowing together, in harmony with each other. Just beyond vision, silver and gold wove their way through the Universe. Harry laughed and wanted to chase the silver and gold, but something stopped him. The red, which until now had blended smoothly with the other colours, was swelling.

He could feel a presence near him and spun, groping instinctively for his wand but realising that it was back with his body, at Hogwarts. He could see nothing and his eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. He could feel something there, something malevolent, something so evil that just to be near it was to be tainted.

Over there. A spark in the south-west, like a shooting star but headed this way. Harry had felt fear before, but never anything like the soul-destroying terror that engulfed him now. Something was coming, something bad, and he was powerless to stop it.

And suddenly, the presence was behind him once more. Wheeling around, he faced a man dressed as a Knight, whose porcelain features were framed by long, black hair. The Knight would have been handsome, were it not for his eyes. They were the crimson colour of blood, and their gaze promised both eternity and death.

"Do not fear me, child," the Knight was saying. "I am here on a crusade, and one such as you will not be troubled by me."

"What do you mean one such as me?" demanded Harry. The Knight ignored him, staring down at the castle.

"He seeks to thwart us," stated the Knight softly. "But our crusade is a righteous one, and the world will benefit from our victory. He will not stand long." The Knight turned back to Harry. "You are the Potter boy. Your powers must be great indeed, for there are few who can fly the Colours. Will you aid us in our crusade?"

"No," hissed Harry. "I'll have no part of your evil." The Knight laughed.

"Evil? My dear boy, that is but a childish notion. By what right do you say that I am evil? You do not know me. My appearance is less than orthodox, I grant you, but have I given you any cause to call me so? Would you still call me evil if I looked like this?" The Knight waved a hand, and for an instance his face took on a form he knew well. Harry gasped and drew back.

"Sirius?" The Knight laughed.

"Sirius? No, I am not he. Brother Sirius has only recently returned; he will have no part in this Crusade for a while yet. I am Cepheus. I am here on a very important mission. You cannot see the truth; you are blinded by your so-called purity, and it is that which will lead to your eventual destruction.  The world is slowly being destroyed, and my Brothers and I have been called to restore the true harmony of the world."

"You have been called by evil, and for that I want nothing more to do with you." Harry turned to fly back to Hogwarts, but suddenly couldn't move. Fear gripped him once more as the Knight advanced.

"You insolent pup, you know nothing! Believe me, my boy, you will learn the truth soon enough, and then you will beg to be allowed to join us! Provided we haven't already killed you, of course." Cepheus smiled a cold, humourless smile, and lazily waved a hand at Harry. A ball of red flame struck Harry in the chest; he screamed as his skin started to blister and burn; and all of a sudden he was falling. Hogwarts was looming up towards him, he wasn't going to be able to stop, he was going to hit . . .

Harry woke with a yell, his hands shielding his eyes. It took him a moment to realise that he was safe in his dorm at Hogwarts, and there were no evil maraudering knights after him. The dream had seemed so real, though, and the pain . . .

At that moment, pain flared in his chest and he doubled over in agony. It was then he realised that he was lying on the floor, not in his bed. Must have hit something when I fell, he mused.

"'Smatter?" murmured Ron from the next bed. Harry heard Ron's bed creak as the redhead sat up, and he scrambled to the floor.

"Nothing much. Weird dream," replied Harry, cursing the fact that his voice still held a note of terror in it. He couldn't remember a dream ever having terrified him so much. The terror obviously got through to Ron because the next moment, Ron was at his side.

"What was it?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"I don't know, some strange shit. I was flying, and then there was this Knight. He had eyes of blood. I don't know, it's all going a bit hazy . . ." Harry took a step towards the wash basin and stumbled, suddenly dizzy. "I think I need to sit down for a moment. Ron, help me out here. I feel . . . weird . . ." Ron nodded and put his arm around Harry, leading him to the bed. Harry sank down onto the mattress gratefully, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Cheers."

"Harry!" Harry jumped, startled at the note of alarm in Ron's voice, and sat up again.

"What's up?"

"Harry . . . your chest . . . Harry, mate, what the fuck . . ?" Harry glanced down and noticed that a dark mark was spreading across the front of his pyjama top. His vision was starting to go fuzzy again, as he carefully unbuttoned his shirt. The skin was raw, blackened and oozing blood. He could hear Ron shouting, and felt gentle hands lifting him, but beyond that he knew no more as he gently slipped into darkness.