Author's notes:

QueenWeasel & MinorMistake99 - Thanks so much for your continued reading and reviews!!! I will continue to try to post daily or at least every other day, if possible. :  )

CHAPTER SIX - THE DREAM

Due to a strange confluence of events, Harry had still not heard anything about who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was going to be. Ron and Hermione had told Harry that Dumbledore did not announce who it would be at the welcoming feast, only that that person would arrive later on that week. It was now Wednesday night and as Harry, Ron, and Hermione ate their dinner, Harry found himself wondering who was going to greet them the next morning in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. Harry hoped whoever was supposed to be taking the position for Dumbledore wasn't going to back out at the last moment.

Suddenly the large doors to the Great Hall opened and someone came in. Harry wasn't able at first to see who it was as a group of giggling second year Ravenclaw girls were walking in front of him, obstructing his view. There was also the general commotion of various students walking over to see friends in other houses, and many didn't initially pay any attention to who was entering the room. As the person entered and began making his way to the front, however, silence slowly crept across the dining hall. The man had grizzled gray hair, a wooden leg that ended in a clawed foot, a severely scarred face, and a magical electric blue eye that was swiveling in all directions, including out of the back of his own head.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all seen who it was at the same time. "Mad-Eye Moody," they all exclaimed in surprised unison. Moody made his way between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables carefully looking all around him as he went. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched, Moody slowly limped towards them. As Moody came nearer, Harry noticed that his normal beady eye was on him while the magical eye still swiveled wildly about the hall.

"All right, Potter?" Moody asked Harry in his gravelly voice, as he leaned slightly on his heavy wooden cane.

"All right, sir," Harry responded, a bit dumbfounded.

"Sir," Hermione spoke up, finding her voice again, "what are you doing here?"

"Teaching." Moody said simply. "Thought I'd make good on my original offer after all. Besides, you can never have too many eyes out."

Moody's magical eye swirled around almost non-stop as he had said this. Harry forced himself to look away from it; it was rather nauseating to watch. As Moody moved away to go sit with Dumbledore at the staff table, he kept glancing back toward Harry. Moody had always appeared to be somewhat paranoid, but Harry found himself wondering if Moody had actually come to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him, personally. Harry had been followed all last year by the Order, without his prior knowledge or consent. Harry tried to push away the bitter feelings that that memory had just inspired in him as he focused once more on the staff table. Dumbledore stood and began tapping a wineglass at the front. Everyone became quiet.

"I would like to introduce you all to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody." Dumbledore announced.

Almost all of the older students clapped their hands enthusiastically. Moody, though known for being a paranoid eccentric outside of Hogwarts, was still rather idolized inside it. Two years before, Moody had also been scheduled to teach at Hogwarts, and although that Moody had been an imposter, he had made quite an impression nevertheless. The younger students, however, were looking at Moody with mingled expressions of fear and revulsion. The missing chunk out of his nose, his wooden leg, and his deeply scarred face did look rather threatening, but Harry knew that Moody, while a bit odd, was a very good person at heart.

A vivid image of a bouncing white ferret that had just a moment before been Draco Malfoy suddenly sprung into Harry's mind. He snickered to himself at the thought. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy normally held court. Malfoy was staring at Moody with his mouth slightly open; a faint greenish tinge was now crawling up his small pointed face. Harry elbowed Ron who then nudged Hermione as he nodded at Malfoy, Harry's face breaking into a satisfied grin. Malfoy seemed to be sinking lower into his seat as Moody surveyed the students in the Great Hall. A few minutes later as the students were finishing dinner and heading back to their common rooms, Moody and Dumbledore still sat with their heads together conversing intently in the middle of the staff table. Snape was down at one end of the table; his face twisted into an ugly sneer. Apparently Moody's return to Hogwarts wasn't something that Snape relished any more than Malfoy did. Snape left very shortly thereafter.

Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered excitedly, "Do you think the real Moody will teach us the same way the fake Moody did?" Harry shrugged, wondering. The fake Moody who had taught them two years ago had actually been Barty Crouch, Jr., a Death Eater under Voldemort's orders. He had pretended to help Harry through the Triwizard Tournament during his fourth year, so that he could essentially kidnap Harry and deliver him directly into Voldemort's hands.

Out of nowhere, Harry took a deep intake of breath as his scar flared in a sudden stabbing pain. Harry was suddenly struck by the vivid memories of that horrific night. It was almost as if a dementor had glided up behind him, sucking the life out of the room. In his mind, Harry heard a cold rasping laugh and he immediately jerked around looking behind him, expecting to see the glowing red eyes and white snake-like face staring back at him. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, but Harry continued to feel on edge and paranoid; he felt terribly cold and unsettled, the warmth of the Great Hall had suddenly gone. Harry shivered as the images seemed to force themselves unbidden into his mind. He saw the circle of masked Death Eaters surrounding him, and then remembered the excruciating pain as Voldemort had used the Cruciatus Curse on him again and again while he was still tied helplessly to the tombstone of Voldemort's Muggle father.

Harry's scar now stung even more sharply; he felt the same horribly trapped feeling that he had felt in the graveyard, even though at the moment he was now safe and surrounded by friends. All of the sudden Harry felt constricted, like he was suffocating. Harry's pulse was racing and his stomach began to turn and rumble with nausea; he pushed his dinner plate abruptly away. Harry clamped his mouth shut and shook his head as he got up quickly from the table, disoriented. He felt this intense desire to escape, to run from here as fast as his legs could carry him. Harry was suddenly feeling profoundly claustrophobic, even though the Great Hall was a huge room.

"Harry ..." Hermione said, inquiringly, looking up at him nervously. She had noticed the suddenly panicked look on Harry's face as he had jumped up from the table. Ron was also staring at Harry disconcertedly. Apparently he had noticed, too.

"I ... er," Harry stammered hastily, "I forgot something, I've got to go ..."

Harry walked quickly to the door, then upon reaching the hallway ran full out down a corridor on the first floor and hid in one of the secret passageways behind a large tapestry. Harry felt panicked and almost feverish. His heart was beating violently against his chest as he sat on the cold stone floor, trying to calm down. Harry wasn't sure of what was happening to him; he felt as though he was going mad. Harry rubbed his forehead furiously, feeling completely unhinged.

Harry sat there with his head in his hands feeling worse and worse as his scar throbbed more and more insistently. Finally, Harry had a sudden idea. Harry began putting up the strong shielded barrier in his mind, just like he had during his Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore. The stinging ache in his scar began to dissipate and then finally disappear. He felt achy all over now, almost as though he'd just recovered from a terrifying new illness. After gathering his wits for a moment, Harry got up and strode directly to Dumbledore's office. He knew that Dumbledore was still probably in the dining hall with Moody, but he decided that he would wait for him in his office anyway. Dumbledore had told Harry that he wanted to know if these Voldemort-related flashes occurred again. As Harry sprinted into the corridor of Dumbledore's office, however, he suddenly saw him coming around the corner.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry called breathlessly, "I need to speak with you."

"By all means, Harry," Dumbledore responded, seeing the alarmed look on Harry's face. Dumbledore's long stride caught up to Harry's easily.  "Come in," Dumbledore said.

Harry eagerly followed his headmaster into his office as the portraits of the previous headmasters continued to doze in their frames. Harry knew that the portraits were not really asleep, but at that moment he had more important matters on his mind. In the aftermath of the attack, Harry's movements were still a bit jerky; he felt antsy and unwell.

"Sir," Harry began, sitting in the chair Dumbledore had offered him. "I think Voldemort may be up to something again..." Dumbledore looked at him inscrutably for a second, but then he quickly locked his eyes onto Harry's face.

"Sorry," Harry said, suddenly feeling a bit foolish for panicking like he had. "I was sitting eating dinner just a few minutes ago when something, well, strange happened. My scar hurt and I felt like I needed to get away and hide or something." Harry realized that this must sound like complete nonsense to Dumbledore and he looked away, focusing on Fawkes' golden perch, which was softly reflecting the flames of Dumbledore's fireplace. Taking a deep calming breath, Harry continued, wanting his headmaster to understand. "I felt like I was back in that graveyard with Voldemort again, Professor ... I even thought for a moment that he had come up right behind me in the Great Hall. I think he forced those images into my mind again." Harry looked at his hands and saw that they were still clammy and trembling; to hide this, he shoved them hastily into the pockets of his robes. After a moment Harry felt calm enough to continue.

"I was finally able to make it stop by building that barrier in my mind, like you taught me, Professor." Harry finished, as he finally set his eyes upon his headmaster's face again.

"Building the barrier did stop the attack?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir. I still feel a little shaky now, but my scar doesn't hurt anymore." Harry answered, feeling relieved. Dumbledore seemed to understand.

Dumbledore was looking into Harry's bright green eyes with a look of concern mixed with pride. "It sounds as though Voldemort was indeed trying to break into your mind again just now, Harry. However, you have succeeded on your own in stopping him. I think that is certainly a step in the right direction." Dumbledore said slowly, a slight smile on his ancient face. Harry felt a bit surprised; it hadn't really sunk in yet that he had just repelled Voldemort's attack on his mind without help. Harry smiled, too.

"I hadn't thought of that, I guess, Professor."

"Harry, you have just demonstrated in a real situation that you are quite able to defend yourself against these attacks. You are doing even better than I had hoped." Dumbledore said, looking proudly at Harry. Then Dumbledore sighed and pulled out of his midnight blue robes a brass pocket watch with twelve hands on it. "It is getting late, Harry. Perhaps you should go to bed."

Harry nodded, feeling significantly better than he had just a few moments before. As Harry started to rise from the deeply cushioned chair, he said, "Thank you, Professor," and turned to leave. When Harry reached the door, however, Dumbledore spoke again, "Harry, I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need me ... anytime, day or night." Dumbledore's eyes had a faintly paternal look about them as he had said this. Harry felt extremely grateful to his headmaster; he even felt a rekindling of the bond that they had once shared before last year. "Thank you, sir," Harry said again, as he softly closed the door.

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When Harry reached his dormitory Ron was waiting up for him; he looked worried. "Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked, a bit hesitantly. Ron was looking at Harry with his brow furrowed anxiously. Like Hermione, Ron had also noticed Harry's frantic departure from the Great Hall, even though Harry had tried to disguise how terrified he had actually been feeling at the time.

"I just forgot something, that's all. Everything's fine." Harry repeated lightly, trying to allay his friend's fear. Harry knew Ron and Hermione were still worried about him, and he didn't want to give them anything new to worry about. Ron was still frowning at him, looking incredulous.

"I'm fine, really," Harry said confidently, not wanting to tell Ron that Voldemort had just attacked his mind again. Ron still didn't look completely convinced, but he apparently decided to drop the subject and started getting ready for bed. As Harry did the same, he realized that he had accomplished something significant that day. Keeping Voldemort out of his mind today meant that he could hopefully deal with these kind of incidents more effectively in the future. Harry felt greatly comforted by that possibility. Harry then carefully created the barrier in his mind again before he nodded off to sleep.

Harry found himself walking along the large lake that surrounded Hogwart's Castle in the bright sunshine. The water was shimmering a brilliant crystal blue and the sky was turquoise with several white puffy cotton-like clouds. As he strolled along the emerald green lawn, Harry saw something on the ground. He bent down to pick it up and discovered that it was Sirius' mirror. The mirror was no longer broken, but complete and whole as Harry looked into it at his own reflection.

As Harry wiped it off, he felt strangely excited. On a wild impulse he looked into the mirror and said the name, "Sirius Black." Suddenly, Sirius' face actually appeared in the mirror's smooth silver surface. "Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, shocked to see his godfather again. Sirius looked much like he had when he had been hiding in various tropical locations on the run from the Ministry during Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. Sirius' hair was short and glossy, his face had a slight tan, and his eyes were vivacious and alive again; not even remotely haggard or haunted as they had been before he had died.

"How are you, Harry?" Sirius asked, a wide smile brightening his still youthful face.

But Harry then realized that the voice had not come from the mirror. Harry turned around with lightning speed and came face to face once again with his godfather.

"SIRIUS!" Harry cried, and grabbed Sirius into a tight hug. Harry found that he was smiling so widely that his cheeks actually hurt. "Where have you been, Sirius? I've been so desperate to see you... to talk to you ... to tell you..." Harry stammered, talking so fast that he was tripping over the words, as he held Sirius at arms-length unwilling to actually let go of him.

"You know where I've been, Harry." Sirius answered somewhat enigmatically, looking piercingly into Harry's face. Then Sirius said softly, "I just wanted to check on you. I wanted to make sure that you're handling this okay."

"I ..." Harry looked into Sirius' handsome face and he felt something painful give way in his chest. "Sirius ..." Harry tried to say how much he had missed him, tried to tell Sirius how much he needed him here, but instead he found himself staring into his godfather's face at a complete loss for words. Tears then began to blur Harry's vision and slide down his face; Harry found himself unable to move or breathe or to tear his eyes away from his godfather's face.

Sirius seemed to understand without Harry uttering a single word, however, as he embraced Harry once more. "It really is going to be all right, Harry. This pain will lessen over time. I know that it's overwhelming right now, but you will be able to get past this," Sirius told him quietly. Sirius led Harry to a nearby tree stump and carefully sat him down upon it. Sirius then kneeled in front of Harry and gently wiped Harry's face with his hand while looking up into Harry's bright grief-stricken eyes.

After a moment, Sirius spoke again. "Harry, I wanted you to know that we will be together again someday. I wanted to give you some comfort because I know how truly difficult this must be for you. I will never be where your heart can't find me." Sirius said, as he placed his other hand on Harry's chest. Sirius' gray eyes looked into Harry's intently, trying to ease his sorrow. "I just wanted to reassure you that you're stronger than you think you are right now. Eventually, Harry, you will be able get over this, you'll be able to move on."

Sirius was speaking quietly and Harry focused solely on the sound of his godfather's voice. "I didn't want to leave you, Harry, but this was never your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself for this." At these words Harry looked down despondently, and a small audible sob escaped him as the tears continued to pour unceasingly down his cheeks. The intense pain and guilt were completely overwhelming him again. Sirius didn't understand; Harry knew it was all his fault. Harry tried to tell Sirius how sorry he was, but he was falling apart.

"No, Harry," Sirius said softly, as though reading Harry's thoughts, "This is not your fault, it just happened....." Sirius paused, waiting for Harry's sobs to die down again. "Listen, I want you to promise me something. I want you to go on with your life, Harry. You have to." As Harry slowly met his godfather's eyes again, Sirius whispered, "You can do it, Harry, I know you can."

"Okay," Harry whispered after a moment, in a small anguished voice. Sirius grasped Harry's shoulder warmly and then began to stand. "Take care of yourself, Harry. Don't forget what I've told you," Sirius smiled at Harry gently again, and then like a wisp of smoke was gone.

"Wait," Harry called out, desperately. Harry awoke suddenly to find himself in his very dark dormitory again. The hearth fire had gone out and rain was lashing at the windows. Harry heard the soft deep breathing coming from his fellow Gryffindors and knew that they were all still asleep. Sirius was gone, now. Harry had felt his presence so strongly. It had felt just like Sirius had really been physically there with him, trying to provide comfort and strength when Harry had needed it most.

Long moments of time passed unnoticed as Harry sat up thinking about his godfather. As Harry dwelled on the memory of Sirius' face and voice a deep abiding sorrow engulfed him once more. Eventually, though, Harry dried his eyes, then lay back down again under the canopy of his four poster bed. As Harry drifted off once more, a small part of him began to realize deep down that maybe eventually things might actually be okay again; that eventually he might even be okay again.

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Harry woke the next morning to hear Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus discussing their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Mad-Eye Moody.

"Do you think he'll teach us any new stuff?" Dean asked.

"I hope so," said Seamus. "I only got to be in that one D.A. meeting last year with Harry, and I wanted another go at Patronuses."

"I hope we get to practice dueling." Neville put in.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, frowning rather glumly, "With things the way they are we need all the defense lessons we can get."

Neville was the first to notice that Harry was awake as he discreetly pushed his glasses back on his face. "What do you think Professor Moody will teach us, Harry? Do you think it will be like the D.A. meetings you gave us last year?" Neville asked him.

"Maybe," Harry said noncommittally, glancing rather pointedly at Ron. While the other boys knew that Moody had once been an Auror, none of them knew the whole story behind what Moody was doing now. Harry and Ron couldn't openly disclose what they really knew about Moody. Neville, Dean, and Seamus had no knowledge about the Order or Moody's involvement in it as one of its members.

"I'm sure it'll be interesting," Ron said, quickly. "Hey, I don't know about you lot, but I'm hungry. Let's go," he said, deftly changing the topic of the conversation. Ron seemed to notice that Harry was being a bit too quiet; he also noticed the fact that Harry's face was rather swollen and somber. "Hungry, Harry?" Ron asked, cautiously.

"I'll be down in a bit," Harry said, trying to appear normal but failing rather miserably. Ron hesitated, but apparently thought Harry might want to be alone, and followed Neville, Dean, and Seamus out the door.

Once everyone had left to go downstairs, Harry sat back down on his bed still in his pajamas. His mind was still down on the grounds with his godfather. The whole dream had felt so completely real that Harry still felt as though Sirius had actually come to see him last night. Harry slowly got up and padded barefoot over to the blown glass window that overlooked the vast Hogwarts grounds. He could see the very place that he had been with Sirius in his dream.

Harry began thinking of what Sirius had told him; he still couldn't quite accept that there would ever really be a time when he would be able to move past this intense sadness. As Harry changed into his robes, however, he remembered the way Sirius had looked; happy, healthy, and content. Sirius had said that he would never be where Harry's heart couldn't find him. Harry carried that comforting thought inside himself like a powerful beacon as he finally headed downstairs.