Oh, bugger! It has been a while, hasn't it? I sincerely apologise for the lack of updates, stuff has been going on in my private life that have made it impossible to for me to get in the mood to read, let alone write. But things should be sorted now, hopefully. Don't despair, I'll not be giving up on this fic until it's well and truly finished, I love it too damn much! And I've also got an idea for a sequel. So don't despair, you'll be hearing lots more from me yet!
Thanks to my faithful reviewers: SiLvErFaTeD, Velven, syntaxandgramma, Names are for little men!!!, Falafel, Jamie, Pegasus and V-Gin. Thank you so much for your patience. You must be getting tired of my excuses by now!
And a HUGE thank you to my darling Cory, who gave me enough of a kick up the arse to get this chapter rolling.
Harry heard a mumble of voices as he slowly regained consciousness. His head appeared to be full of fog, his chest was a searing agony, and he kept his eyes closed while he tried to make sense of what had happened. He'd been . . . flying, he supposed, and there had been that man, and he'd said . . . His chest spasmed with pain again and he groaned, his eyes flaring open.
The babble of voices stopped, and a figure bent over him. Harry could just make out the blurred features of Ron and he reached for his glasses.
"Blimey, mate . . . what happened?" asked Ron hoarsely.
"I . . . I'm not sure . . ." Harry mumbled, rubbing his scar, which was throbbing painfully. "I mean, I was asleep, and then I was . . . I was flying, right up near the stars. I don't know, it goes a bit hazy after that."
"Try to remember, Harry." Harry looked around at the Headmaster, who was standing by the door and looking worried. That wasn't a good sign. "It could be important." Harry fell silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before telling Dumbledore all that he could remember.
"…And that man… Cepheus, I think he said his name was, he said that Sirius wasn't ready yet, or something. Then he shot something at me. That's all I can remember."
"Do you have any idea how you came to be flying the colours?" asked Dumbledore softly. Harry shrugged.
"No idea. That knight said that not many people can do it.""Indeed they can't." Dumbledore looked at Harry over steepled fingers, his expression thoughtful. "If my memory serves me correctly, this is not the first time you've had an out-of-body experience, is it?" Harry shook his head.
"No, the last time I saw Voldemort torturing someone and ended up on the street. I thought that it might have something to do with, you know, our connection?"
"It may be that your connection with Voldemort has awakened a talent you did not know you possessed." Dumbledore continued to stare at Harry, who fidgeted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny. He stayed silent, trying to think straight.
"I think we should let our young Mr Potter get some rest," Dumbledore said firmly after a moment. Everyone consented, as Harry was looking pale and wan, throwing him one last worried look as they left. Harry settled back into his pillows, the Headmaster's sudden departure unsettling him slightly. A shuffling sound came from the corner as the door closed and he looked over.
"How did you know I was here?" he asked the shadow.
"Where else would you be?" drawled the shadow, more commonly known as Draco Malfoy, stepping forwards. "Besides, I went up to the Tower, for reasons unknown, and the Fat Lady said something along the lines of 'Screaming . . .Blood. . . Harry. . . Oh, that poor boy!' It didn't take much to work out you'd been getting in some sort of trouble."
"Unknown reasons, hey?" Harry asked.
"I wanted to talk some more," Draco said, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed. "That is if you wouldn't mind?"
"I'm not going anywhere" Harry said, smiling slightly. Draco smiled back.
"Well I was thinking about my father. I'm always thinking about it these days . . ." Draco trailed off and rubbed his temples. "And I just . . . well . . . he did it. I didn't think he could do that to his own followers, you know? I thought he would spring dad out of Azkaban and everything would be fine. I would have a nice, normal Death Eater family and spend the rest of my life hating you"
"I always ruin everything" he said, sighing as he shot Draco a wry grin.
"Join the club" Draco sighed.
"I'm president." Both boys sat in silence for a moment, Harry's thoughts still fuzzy and confused after the night before. He had the distinct feeling that Dumbledore was hiding something from him, yet again – surely the old fool had learned by now that keeping secrets did more harm than good? Harry shook his head. He trusted Dumbledore, he respected the old man more than anyone else – so why did he have the distinct feeling that he was up to no good?
"I got you a book to read, by the way," Draco said, breaking the silence. "I thought it might be useful." He handed Harry a well-worn paperback.
"A novel?" Harry asked, raising one eyebrow slightly. "A Muggle novel at that. What would Draco Malfoy be doing with a Muggle novel?" Draco shrugged.
"Draco Malfoy has become quite a collector of Muggle literature. Quite against his will, of course. Mother had some books that one of her relatives had lent her, and somehow they managed to avoid being incinerated by my father. I found them one day, and just . . . couldn't bring myself to throw them out, for some reason. Call it stupidity or insatiable curiosity, or whatever. This one's quite good." Harry turned the book over and looked at the title.
"Bloodstone?"
"Like I said, I thought it might be useful." Draco got up and stretched, and turned towards the door. "I've got to be getting back. Oh, and by the way, if you ever scare me like that again I'll hex you into the middle of next week, and I know some pretty awful ones, believe me."
"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest," Harry shot back, grinning as Draco left the room. They'd come on a lot in the last couple of days – Harry's dream, or vision, or whatever it was, had come three days after the event in the Room of Requirement. In classes and around the school, of course, they were as hostile as ever, so that people wouldn't talk, but in private Harry saw a Draco Malfoy who was witty and amusing, a Draco Malfoy who was still hurting at his father's fate and confused at the direction his life had taken since then. . . and a Draco Malfoy who was sexy as hell.
That revelation hadn't been much of a surprise. He'd noticed that before, of course, Draco was one of the more highly sought-after bachelors in the school, despite the rumours that he was betrothed to Pansy Parkinson, but now Draco seemed to have another quality about him. Before he'd been attractive in the way that an exquisitely-carved statue was attractive, yet cold and distant, but now he seemed more human, more real, more desirable.
Harry was jolted out of these thoughts by a knock on the door. The door opened and Professor Lupin entered, looking almost as worried as Dumbledore had. It was almost full moon, and he was looking tired and drawn.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" he asked gently.
"Confused." Lupin shot him a wry smile.
"I'm not surprised. Dumbledore's worried, Harry, extremely worried, and that's never a good sign. You've no idea how it happened at all?" Harry shrugged, indicating that he couldn't remember a thing. Lupin sighed and sat down heavily on the edge of Harry's bed. "Damn. I was hoping you'd be able to do it again."
"What for?" asked Harry curiously. Lupin shot him a worried look and leaned forwards, lowering his voice so that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be able to hear him from her office.
"Tomorrow's Halloween. Do you know what they used to say about Halloween?" Harry nodded.
"I heard Piers telling Dudley one night, he said his mum reckoned it was the night when the veil between worlds. . ." Harry trailed off as the implication of these words hit him with a force, leaving him slightly breathless. Lupin nodded.
"When the veil between this world and others is thinnest and therefore it's easier for things to pass between worlds. In fact, it's one of two nights, the other being the night between April 30th and May 1st. It used to be thought that Halloween was the night when those who had passed over in the last year walked among us again. There's a basis of truth in that, and. . ." Lupin lowered his voice further. "I wanted to take advantage of tomorrow night to try and contact Sirius." Harry's chest contracted and he felt as though he could hardly breathe. He was filled with the need to see Sirius again, a need so strong that he felt as though his heart would burst under the emotion.
"I'll help," he blurted. Lupin sighed heavily.
"It'll be dangerous, Harry, doubly so if you can't find the colours again. I don't have any right to ask you to do it, and if Dumbledore finds out what we're up to. . ."
"He probably already knows," said Harry darkly. "He seems to know everything." Lupin chuckled.
"All right then, but if I get you killed or maimed then Madam Pomfrey will tan my hide!" Harry chuckled too.
"I want to do it," he stated. "I. . . I want him back. I can't let him join with those Knights, they're not right. And I can't let you go on your own, you're. . . well, you're the only link I have left to my parents." He smiled. "I've still got a lot of questions left and I can't let you get yourself killed before you answer them!" Lupin laughed and ruffled Harry's hair.
"That was an answer worthy of James," he said proudly. "Now I'd better let you get some rest or Madam Pomfrey will keep you here for eternity and a day to recuperate. Come to my office at lunch and we'll work something out, okay?" He flashed a tired smile at Harry and left the room. No sooner was he out of the door than Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and bustled over to Harry's bed.
"I'm allowed my patient back now, am I?" she tutted. "I don't know, how am I supposed to treat you with half the school traipsing in and out all the time?" She placed some beakers of potion on Harry's bedside table, handing one to him. "Drink this. It'll help with the burns. And, provided you rest tonight, you can go back to school tomorrow. And try not to do anything dangerous in future, please, I've got enough on my hands without having to patch you up all the time!"
Harry settled back into his pillows, letting her tirade wash over him. He removed his glasses and closed his eyes, and completely failed to get to sleep. His heart and mind were too full of Sirius, and the prospect of seeing him again was too exciting. It would be dangerous, Lupin had said, but Harry didn't care how dangerous it was.
Anything would be worth the chance to get his godfather back.