Chapter 27:  The Dragon's Egg

            Harry gritted his teeth, trying not to yell.  "Madam Pomfrey, please."

            "For the last time, Mr. Potter, no!" the nurse shot back.

            "Why not?!"  It was getting harder to keep his voice even.

            "As you well know, Mr. Potter, he needs his rest!" she declared as though it was the most sacred and unbreakable commandment.

            "He's had his rest!  I didn't try to talk to him last night, I didn't get in your way, I didn't even put up a fight when you told me to leave," Harry said quickly.  "Please, I need to be there for him."

            "Then write him a get-well card!" Madam Pomfrey said with a firm scowl.

            Harry clenched his fists, taking a deep breath.  "Madam Pomfrey, what if that was me?  What if Sirius was demanding to see me?  You'd let him."

            Madam Pomfrey's scowl deepened and she took a quick glance away from him.

            Harry knew he had her.  "I know he's not a little boy, but neither am I.  That doesn't mean we don't need our family."  He tried his best to look both pleading and very adult.

            Madam Pomfrey scowled at him for a long time, her eyes like those of a sailor after the captain declared they were taking a three-month side trip after a year at sea.  Harry widened his eyes slightly, hoping to sway her sympathies.  The nurse threw up her hands.

            "Oh, all right, Mr. Potter!" she cried.  "But if he gets worse, then you can just go blame yourself!"

            Harry beamed and suddenly took her into a hug.  "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!"

            "Go on, get in there!" she snipped, pushing him away.  "You only have five minutes, and I could change my mind!

            Harry just laughed and stepped into the hospital wing as the nurse finally relinquished her stronghold.

            Sirius occupied the bed farthest from the door, and Harry felt a bit odd, not only about being on the visiting end for once but also at seeing an adult there.  The man rested against a mound of pillows, partially sitting up, and his head was tilted far back.  As Harry got closer, he noticed his godfather's eyes were closed and worried a moment that he might be asleep.

            "Sirius?"

            His eyelids pulled back slowly and for a while Sirius stared at the ceiling.  Then slowly he turned his head and saw Harry.  His face broke out into a smile and he shifted slightly as though trying to sit up straighter; it didn't work.

            "Hey Harry," Sirius said, his voice somewhat slurred and his eyes a bit vague.  He reached a hand out and placed it heavily on Harry's shoulder.  "How are you?"

            "I'm fine," he said, returning the smile and placing his hand over Sirius'.  "What about you?"

            "Oh, I'm doing great," Sirius said, beaming.  "Wasn't feeling too good this morning but Poppy helped.  Sorry if I sound a bit odd; she doped me up pretty good."

            A loud snort made Harry jump and turn his head a little too fast for comfort.  Madam Pomfrey was tidying up the other beds and tables in the room, glancing at them with contempt every now and then.

            "Gotta love that woman," Sirius said, giving Harry a wink.

            Madam Pomfrey gave another derisive noise as she moved to the next bed.

            "Hey, I hope I didn't worry you too much," Sirius said, his voice thickening.  "I woulda come back quicker, but Snape forced me not to apparate."

            "And rightfully so!" Madam Pomfrey cried.  "You should never do magic when in such a delicate state."

            Sirius waved his hand absentmindedly.  "It's not like I was having a baby."

            "Well, the same rule applies," she huffed, going into her office with a slam of the door.

            Sirius looked after her with a vague grin.  "Poppy has such a knack for ending a conversation…"

            Harry just smiled at him, glad to see he wasn't in too much pain.

            After a while of silence, Sirius finally said, "You can ask, you know."

            Harry jumped slightly.  "What?"

            "What were we doing?  How did the battle go?  What happened?" Sirius smiled.  "I know you're burning to ask."

            "Well…yeah.  Only if you feel up to it, though."

            Sirius waved his hand off-handedly.  "'Course I'm up to it."

            They sat in silence for a while.  Harry started to feel a bit awkward.  "Well?"

            "Huh?"

            "Aren't you going to tell me what happened?"

            "Oh. …I don't know where to start…"

            Harry thought a moment.  "Well, how did you and Snape get back if you didn't apparate?"

            "Who says we didn't apparate?"

            Harry stared at him, his brow slightly furrowed.  "I… well, you did."

            "Oh!  I just meant he wouldn't let me apparate at first.  He thought I'd muddle it royally since I'd been delirious all day—"

            "Delirious?" Harry asked, slightly shocked.

            "Ah, no.  I just wasn't all there, unconscious, you know?  Can't blame me though, can you, after getting a lovely slice like this?"  He gave his chest a pat and then winced.  "Okay, won't do that again.  Did you know Snape even tried to get me on a stretcher?  Ha, I wasn't about to accept his help."

            Harry's eyes were wide.  "Sirius, but—"

            With a sound both like a grunt and a groan, Sirius lay back again.  He closed his eyes, his head tilted so that he fully faced the ceiling.

            "Siri—?"

            "Bit of a strange battle," he slurred, hardly moving his lips.  "I been in 'em before…  'Course…things're different…"

            Harry stayed quiet, not even sure if Sirius was talking to him anymore.

            "I found Voldemort," Sirius said quietly.  "He recognized me.  I'm glad he did; woulda killed a stranger without a second thought.  I could provide him with some amusement.  He …" Sirius' voice cleared up.  "Well, I eventually ended up under the Imperius Curse, and he brought me up, face to face with him.  Then he said something about how convenient it would be to have the godfather of Harry Potter under his complete control.  I didn't think about it really, but I guess I broke the curse 'cause next thing I knew, I'd punched him."

            Sirius gave a short laugh, looking over at Harry.  His eyes seemed far off.  "I slugged the Dark Lord right in his slitted nose.  'Course his minions weren't about to allow that to continue.  I soon had my own experience with a fist to the face, and then Voldemort—I think it was Voldemort—he pulled out his wand and there was a bright red light.  I felt a searing through my chest; hurt like hell.  I guess the pain made me step back, and I tripped.  I found out how close to the hillside I'd been.  I tried to stop myself from tumbling, but it was too steep.  I guess I hit my head against a rock or tree or something because next thing I knew, Snape was sitting next to me.  …I'd meant to kill him, but at least I hit the bastard."

            Sirius' head went back to its tilted position, his eyes closed again.  Harry spoke up uncertainly.  "Why?  Why did you go after Voldemort like that?"

            "I promised to," Sirius said, his lips barely moving.  "I'd promised I wouldn't let him hurt you again, but he did.  I failed to protect you, and now I've failed to kill him."

            Harry stared at him, his mouth open but unable to utter a sound.  Sirius had nearly killed himself, and for what?  To protect him from what he'd been going through all his life?  Harry didn't want to think about it, quickly changing the subject.  "You don't remember anything?  I mean, about the time when you were delirious."

            Sirius gave a derisive snort, shaking his head.  "The time Snape says I was delirious, you mean."

            Harry hadn't thought his eyes could get any wider, but they did.  "Sirius, the man saved your life."

            His hands fidgeting, Sirius said slowly, "Not necessarily.  I could have lived without his help, perhaps.  Who's to say I couldn't have?"

            "Madam Pomfrey's to say, for one," Harry said, slightly tense.  "I say so, too.  And you know so, Sirius.  You would have died if he hadn't come along."

            Sirius seemed to be determined not to meet Harry's gaze.  "Okay, so let's say I owe him my life.  Well, he owed James his life, and James owed me forty galleons, so I'd say we're all pretty well even."

            "Forty galleons?" Harry said, trying to follow Sirius' logic and failing miserably.

            Sirius seemed to realize the absurdity of his words, opening and closing his mouth in several attempts to get another bit of reasoning out.  Finally, he looked directly at Harry, and he was surprised to see his godfather near tears.

            "I can't owe him anything," Sirius said, his voice straining.  "Can't you understand that, Harry?  I tried to kill him, almost did it too, and now he does this.  I can't owe him anything, not a life, not a sickle, not a quill.  I can't."

            There was a long pause before Harry spoke, his voice slow and quiet.

            "Well I do owe him, Sirius, even if you don't."

            Sirius stared at him in a mixture of hurt and confusion, but Harry just got up and headed for the door.  Madam Pomfrey suddenly swept out of her office.

            "That's it, Potter, it's been more…than…"  She trailed off, watching Harry leave.  For a while, she stared after him, then looked at Sirius, and then just stood there, at an absolute loss.  "I…um… Well," she said firmly, nodding her head.  "He knows better than to try to argue with me."

            And with that, she swept back into her office.

****

            When Remus Lupin entered Catherine Connerly's office, he had every reason to be slightly surprised.  Bandages, a basin of water, and a rag looked out of place on her paper-strewn desk and her right sleeve was pulled back to revel a white bandage.  Moreover, she was currently tugging at a knot on the bandage with her left hand and teeth.

            Remus cleared his throat and Catherine jumped, sitting up sharply with wide eyes.

            "Trying to gnaw our arm off, are we?" Remus asked, amused.

            Catherine shook her head with a laugh.  "Yes, it's getting rather bothersome.  You know, always right there by my side.  One can't help but be annoyed."

            "Well, I'm afraid it's the wrong time of month for me to want to bite your arm off," Remus said with a small smile, pulling up a chair and sitting next to her, "but I could help with that bandage."

            Catherine sighed.  "I suppose it'll have to do."  She gave Remus a wink

            In silence, Remus undid the makeshift knot, slowly unraveling the wrapping.  As he got to the final layer, Catherine winced.  He slowed even more, gently peeling the once-white fiber from her sore skin, still moist with blood.  Without a word, he pulled the bowl of water closer, moistening the rag and dabbing the blood away.  He couldn't help but throw her a questioning glance, which she smiled at.

            "Don't look so worried," she assured him.  "Surrounded by Death Eaters and I get my arm scraped up by a stupid rock."

            "It's a pretty bad scrape," he said, picking up a clean bandage.

            "Well, it was a pretty nasty rock," she said, adding with a smile, "I beat it in the end, though.  It went home crying."

            Remus just shook his head, bandaging the wound back up.

            "You really should have Poppy look at this," he said gently.  "It's been a couple days and if it isn't healing—"

            "No, I'm fine," Catherine said firmly.  "She has more important things to worry about."

            "…Or, rather, people, do you mean?" he said with a slight smile.

            Catherine didn't return the look.

            Still bandaging her arm, Remus asked, "You really love him, don't you?"

            Her voice was hollow when she replied and Catherine kept her eyes on Remus' work.  "Yes, I do.  But I wish I didn't."

            Remus stopped bandaging her arm, looking straight at her.  "Why?"

            "I don't think he loves me back."

            It was all Remus could do to hold back a bitter laugh.  "You must be joking, Catherine.  He adores you."

            "Doesn't mean he loves me," she pointed out.  "I don't know if you've noticed, but lately—"

            "I have," he interrupted quietly.

            "Then you know what I'm talking about!" she cried, throwing out her arms and knocking the old bandage to the floor.  "Clearly he's realized he's not in love with me and is finding it hard to tell me so."

            "…  Either that or he's just tired of your impossibly frizzy hair," Remus smiled, picking up the dropped bandage and putting it on her desk.

            "You're evading the subject, Remus," Catherine said forcefully.  "And badly at that.  Why?  What do you know?"

            "Nothing.  No, I'm serious, Catherine, I don't know anything.  I do guess, though.  And my guess is that Sirius loves you more than he's loved anyone," Remus said.  "He's just having…trouble."

            Catherine sighed.  "I just don't understand.  Sometimes he's so open, but others…"

            "I know.  He wasn't always like this," Remus said slowly, going back to the bandages.  "He used to love and be loved, or hate and be hated.  Every emotion he felt was clear and strong, and rarely movable.  But Azkaban seemed to change that…  I've thought about this, more than once, about how he is different.  He still feels strongly, clearly, but now, I believe, he fears.  He'd never had fear before, but…  He fears as strongly as he loves."

            Catherine shook her head slowly.  "But why does he fear me?"

            "You have to understand, Catherine, the world came crashing down on him that night," Remus said earnestly.  "Two of the people he held most dear were gone.  And more than one turned a back on him right then, when he needed them most…"

            Remus finished tying off the bandage, but he kept staring at it.  He didn't want to look up.

            "Remus…"

            Catherine's bandaged hand reached up and gently tucked a bit of hair behind his ear.  Slowly, almost against his will, he turned his eyes towards hers.  She shook her head slightly.

            "You are a fool sometimes," she said with a small smile.  "You never turned your back on Sirius.  You fought against his being sent to Azkaban without a trial.  You made many Ministry enemies on his behalf with that."

            Remus stared at her.  "How do you…?"

            "Uncle," she smiled.  "He holds a rather high opinion of you, Remus; an outsider would swear you were his son.  Well, grandson."

            Remus smiled, looking down at her shoes.  "I would have been honored to be Albus' grandson."

            "And he would have been honored to be your grandfather.  If there's one thing to be said about Uncle—and there's a lot to be said about him really—it's that he's a great judge of character."

****

            Harry wasn't sure why he was headed for Snape's office.  One would think that after his conversation with Sirius it would be to thank him, but it wasn't.  He might owe Snape gratitude but saying it was another matter.  In any case, his feet sped along down to the dungeons, through the corridors, to the door, and he still didn't know what he was going to say or do when he got there.  He didn't pause however and burst into the room.

            Snape was at his desk looking over papers, but Harry's abrupt entrance instantly caught his attention.  Harry marched right over.

            "Okay, Snape," Harry said, sitting in a chair across from the mildly puzzled Potions teacher.  "Talk."

            Snape's eyebrow arched slightly.  "What?"

            The words poured out of Harry's mouth without any thought behind them.  "Talk.  Tell me about your life, you childhood, your feelings, anything."

            Snape narrowed his eyes.  "What are you up to, Potter?"

            "Would it be better if I began?" Harry asked sincerely.  "Okay, I was born.  You know what happened when I was one.  So, after that I was left on my aunt and uncle's porch and given the closet under the stairs as a bedroom.  You know most of the rest."

            "When you open up, you let the flood out, don't you, Potter?" Snape sneered.

            "You know my life, everybody iknows/i my life," Harry said heavily.  "My life lives on the front page of the Daily Prophet.  But no one knows your life."

            "Have you ever stopped to consider that there might be a very good reason for that, Potter?" the professor said, filling his words with ice.  "It is quite possible that I do not want everyone to know my life.  Some people prefer to keep their secrets."

            Harry stared at him, feeling a little numb.  "Secrets, yes, but your whole life can't be a secret.  You can't hide everything."

            "But—I—Can—Try."

            There was no need for Snape to say, "End of conversation."  The tone of his voice spat it out, and the way his eyes flashed made it quite clear to Harry that it would be advantageous to his health should he leave right then.  But then, Harry wasn't known for doing things that were advantageous to his health.

            "You can't just—"

            Snape's voice poured into Harry's ear like dry ice.  "Yes?"

            Then again, dancing in a snake pit with a pocketful of dead rats was a little more than disadvantageous to one's health.

            Slowly, Harry stood up and walked for the door.  He paused, turning around.  "Professor, I was wondering…the Unforgiveables, the Kill—"

            Snape cut him off with a look and Harry quickly slipped from the room, closing the door behind him.  He stood in the hall for a long time, feeling as though he'd lost the years and centimeters he'd gained at school.  Snape had always done that, had always belittled him…but he'd always fought back.  Now didn't seem the time to stop the tradition.  Harry whirled back around and opened the door, looking in.

            "Potter, I thought I—"

            "Thank you," Harry sputtered out before he could have second thoughts.

            Before the Potions professor could speak or even hide the surprise evident in his face, Harry had closed the door and was walking down the corridor, humming to himself.

****

            The grass crunched under Harry's feet as he walked over the grounds, proof that winter had yet to give into spring.  He, Ron, and Hermione didn't talk much, though Draco was sure to insert complaints about the cold or the conviction that he would die of pneumonia whenever the silence felt too uncomfortable.  They were headed towards Hagrid's hut, but Hagrid wasn't there.  They were going to Care of Magical Creatures, but Hagrid wouldn't be teaching.

            Harry didn't think he could stand to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.  Whenever she'd come before, it had given him cause to worry about Hagrid.  Now he wished that was an option.

            "Hallo there!"

            The words pulled Harry faster from his thoughts than a bucket of cold water could have pulled him from sleep.  He looked up sharply and saw a familiar mop of red hair, a familiar freckled face, and a familiar home-knit sweater.  Charlie Weasley tromped out of the Forbidden Forest, beaming.

            "Well, c'mon then," he called to them.  "There's a fire just inside the forest a ways.  Class is about to start."

            Harry was sure he was gaping, but Charlie didn't seem to notice, looking beyond them and calling to stragglers as they walked by and entered the forest.

            "Gryffindor and Slytherin Creature class, this way!  Come on, come on, we're starting soon!  You don't want to be late!"

            A large fire was roaring not too far into the forest and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco found their classmates huddled around it, hands outstretched towards the warmth.

            "Was that a relative of yours, Ron?" Draco asked pointedly as they took their spots around the fire.

            "Yeah, my older brother Charlie," Ron said, staring at the fire.

            "Mm-hm."

            Ron jumped slightly, turning to find Parvati and Lavender had squeezed in next to him.

            "I knew he was a Weasley," Lavender said.  "I think I remember seeing sometime.  He's rather good-looking, isn't he?"

            "All the Weasleys are rather good-looking," Parvati said, batting an eyelash at Ron.  Ron's ears promptly turned pink.

            Charlie walked up, halting a conversation that ultimately would have lead to a very scarlet Ron.  The older Weasley's eyes shone and his nose was slightly red from the cold.  Despite this, more than one pair of female eyes scanned the man approvingly, their owners shifting so as to be a bit nearer their professor.  He clapped his hands together, looking around expectantly at the lot.

            "Well, allow me to introduce myself; I'm Professor Weasley," he said, his voice practically skipping.  "And to answer a couple of obvious questions, yes, I'll be here for the remainder of the term, yes, I'm Ron's older brother, and no, I do not play favorites."

            A loud snort came from a group of Slytherins but Charlie ignored it.  "Well then, let's get on with it.  This fire in front of us actually serves more than the purpose of warmth, though that certainly is a good enough reason for its being here.  Anyone want to venture what that other purpose might be?"

            "Salamanders?" Neville offered.

            "No, but that's a good guess."

            Harry didn't have any need to guess.  He'd spotted the dark, rounded shape settle in the ashes.  He'd seen something like it before, though this time a wave of queasiness swept over him.

            "Wha's that in its center there?" Seamus said, pointing at the dark shape.

            "Exactly what I was hoping someone would ask!" Charlie said, beaming and pulling on a pair of pink oven mitts.

            If Harry hadn't recognized the mitts as Mrs. Weasley's, he probably would have guessed it by the sudden reddening of Ron's ears.  Charlie reached down into the fire and picked up the egg, quickly placing it on a pile of cloth Harry hadn't noticed before.

            "Gather 'round, gather 'round," Charlie said, ushering the class towards him.  "Mind the fire; don't want anyone singed.  Well then, you are all about to witness something very few are privileged to see:  a dragon hatching."

            A murmur went through the group like a shot.  Dean gave a low whistle.

            "I thought that having dragons was illegal," he said, sounding rather pleased with their criminal professor.

            "Not for me, no," Charlie smiled.  "I've spent a number of years in Romania studying dragons; enough that I was permitted to make this presentation."

            Another murmur went through the group, but this was much less urgent.  A few eye-owners shifted even closer to Charlie.  Pansy Parkinson looked torn between her abhorrence of anything Weasley and the attractiveness of a young, rebellious, dragon-taming professor.

            "I've had this egg in my care for a while now; its mother was killed for raiding numerous Muggle villages, quite unusual for its breed, actually.  They are normally very docile and stay away from humans.  Now, can anyone tell me what type of dragon this is?"

            "A Welsh Green," Dean Thomas spoke up, pointing to the egg.  "If it's green on brown, a Welsh Green you've found."

            Charlie laughed.  "I see you've read Not Just a Bunch of Giant, Fire-Breathing Lizards by Saria Stratton."

            "It had a bunch of reference pictures for something I was working on," Dean explained sheepishly.

            "It moved!" Pansy Parkinson suddenly shrieked, jumping into the Slytherin boy behind her.

            "Ah, excellent," Charlie smiled.  "As I'm sure many of you have noticed because of the cracks in the egg, it's well into the process of hatching.  You're lucky; the last two classes didn't get to see anything more.  We, however, should see the actual emersion anytime now."

            Only the crackling fire broke the silence that fell upon the class.  All eyes strained to catch any movement from the egg.  Well, almost all eyes.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione hung back from the crowd.  It wasn't that they didn't want to support Charlie's first class—though he seemed to need very little—but they'd seen a hatching before.  That didn't make this time dull, by any means.  In fact, boredom was the furthest thing from their minds.

            A surprised cry indicated that they dragon had finally decided to emerge…black and limp like a soggy umbrella.  Harry glanced at the center of the group; no, this one was a brilliant green.  Harry's stomach sank to his feet as he looked away.

            Everyone else talked excitedly about the class (and the professor) when it was over.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed back, though, drawing dark looks from a few of their classmates who'd hoped to catch the professor alone.  Draco paused a moment, but continued to the castle with the rest of the class.

            "Need any help, Charlie?" Harry asked, watching the man gently settle the baby dragon in a glass case by the fire.

            "Oh, no.  Just settling the Green in for the next class," Charlie said, beaming.

            "Charlie," Hermione said, painting on a smile, "why didn't you tell us?  Not that I mind the pleasant surprise…"

            Charlie's smile faded.  "But…I did.  Well, I wrote Ron, and I always reckon that if I tell one of you it's as good as telling all three.  Did it not arrive?"

            "N-no, I got the owl, I remember now," Ron muttered, studying the snow.

            Hermione's eyes clouded over, but Harry just looked at Ron with mild surprise.  Charlie looked at each of them, his ears turning pinker than the cold had made them.

            "Er… well, I'd better check on the Green," he said, quickly heading over to the fire.

            Hermione turned on her heel and started marching toward the castle, Ron and Harry not too far behind.  They were only halfway there, though, when she spun back around, her face livid.

            "I can't believe you didn't tell us!" she yelled as Ron stumbled to a halt.

            "I…I forgot."

            "And now you're lying!"

            Ron hunched his shoulders, glaring at the snow.  "Okay, so I just didn't tell you.  I didn't think it'd matter."

            "Didn't…?!  Not matter?!  Well, you're right about one thing, Ron: you didn't think!" Hermione cried, her voice echoing over the snow.  "You never think!  Just swing along through life, not caring about consequences or others' feelings!  You're so insensitive!"

            Past the agitated tossing of Hermione's head, Harry could see Ron seeming to shrink in upon himself, his head bowing low and back slowly following.  Hermione kept right on yelling, and for once Ron didn't yell back.

            "Hermione…" Harry said quietly.  She didn't hear him.

            "I can't believe you kept this from us!  It was a horrible secret!  Friends are supposed to talk to each other, Ron, if you didn't know that!  I can't believe how selfish you are, how you always are!  Try taking a walk in someone else's shoes for once, Ron, because—"

            "FINE!"

            In one moment, Ron went from shrinking into himself to towering over them, his eyes flashing and fists clenched.  Hermione stepped back into Harry, her eyes wide.

            "You know, you're right, Hermione, like always!" Ron yelled.  "I'm selfish and stubborn and just plain rotten sometimes!  I'm not perfect, Hermione, and I never will be, no matter how many times you point that out!  I will make mistakes because I really don't know how I should act in every situation!  But neither do you!"

            He spun toward the castle, nearly slipping on the snow but storming off once he caught his footing.

            "Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered, staring after Ron, "what did I say?"

            Harry held back a sigh.  "A number of things you regret, but they'll be forgiven and forgotten."

            Hermione shook her head, covering her face with her hands.  "I'm so horrible.  It's just…nothing's felt right.  I feel so out of control.  How could I have said those things?"

            Putting an arm around her, he said, "Well…you aren't perfect."

            She gave a laugh-sob, burying her head into Harry's shoulder.

****

            "Harry, I'd like to talk with you after class," Sirius said as the class was signaled to leave.

            Harry nodded, giving Hermione an apologetic glance (Ron seemed to refuse to acknowledge anyone else existed, even Parvati) and waiting for everyone to file out the door.  When they had, Sirius motioned Harry to follow him and they headed down the corridors.

            "Figured I'd take you to the tower; give us a chance to talk," Sirius said as an explanation.

            "Oh.  Okay."

            "Um…so how are you doing, Harry?  How's school?"

            "Well, okay, I guess."

            "How was Charlie's first class?" Sirius asked, a slight lilt to his voice.  "He was a bit excited about it."

            "It went quite well," Harry answered, trying not to think about it much.

            "Good…good…"

            They walked in silence for a while.

            "So, what else are you doing?" Sirius said, determined to say something.  "How's Quidditch?"

            "We have our first practice for a long time tonight.  It was a bit cold for playing."

            "Ah, yeah.  Very cold.  It's been that way for a while.  But it seems to be warming up now.  Hopefully it will stay that way till spring.

            Harry wasn't sure how to answer, so he just nodded.  The walked in silence until they reached the Fat Lady, and then they stood in silence.

            "So, how about you?" Harry asked.  "How are you doing?"

            "Walking, breathing, living.  It's good enough for me.  Still a bit tender, though," Sirius smiled, patting his chest.  "On the bright side, I'll have a wicked scar to show for it."

            "On the bright side," Harry smiled back.

            They were silent for a while, Harry waiting for what Sirius had really wanted to talk about.

            "Is that all you wanted to talk about?" he prompted.

            "Er…um…yeah," Sirius said slowly.

            Harry waited a few more seconds then said, "I'd better be going then; I've practice in—"

            "No," Sirius said resolutely.  "No, that wasn't all I wanted to talk about."

            Harry nodded, waiting.

            "Well, you see…er.  Harry…" Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck.  "About your visit the other day, when I was in the hospital wing…  The pain killers had gotten to my head, and I think I acted pretty odd.  I might have said…  Well, just forget it happened, okay?"

            Harry smiled, and lied, "Already forgotten."

            Relief washed over Sirius' face.  "Good.  I have a tendency of saying stupid things when my brain's not there.  I was completely sloshed when you were born."  Sirius gave a short laugh.  "I don't think Lily ever forgave me for that."

            Harry grinned and then turned to the Portrait.  "Good night, Sirius."

            "Harry, wait."

            Turning back to his godfather, Harry suddenly found himself in an embrace.  He felt a bit surprised, but hugged Sirius before he pulled back.

            "I love you, Harry," Sirius said firmly.  "I want you to know that.  I know it might sound weird but…  Well, damn it, I saw you come out the birth canal, a little 'I love you' shouldn't seem so strange."

            Harry pulled a face.  "Rather more than I wanted to know, Sirius."

            Sirius laughed.  "Well, you should know.  You should know what your birth was like, what your life was like.  It's yours, after all."

            Harry shook his head, almost in a laugh.  "You don't need to do this, Sirius.  I know you feel the need to play the father, but really, I'm okay on my own."

            "Harry, I've never done anything unless I wanted to," Sirius said.  "And I want you to be able to talk to me, ask me questions, anything.  I'm here for you, I really am, and not because I feel like I have to be.  I want to."

            For some reason, Harry's voice wouldn't work.  So he just nodded, hoping that would somehow say everything he couldn't.

            "Well," Sirius said shortly, "I won't keep you waiting.  Good night, Har—"

            Harry cut him off with an embrace.  Sirius' eyes widened but then he hugged his godson back.

            "I love you, Sirius," Harry said.

            Suddenly a loud honking noise caused them to separate and look at the wall in front of them.

            The Fat Lady dabbed her eyes with her recently-used handkerchief.  "That was the sweetest thing I've ever seen," she sniffled.

****

            When Harry entered his dorm, there was a tiny owl perched on the foot of his bed.  The only other owl Harry had ever seen of its size was Pig, so at first he was certain it must be stuffed.  Then it turned and blinked at him, holding out a leg.  There was a small bit of parchment tied there.  As soon as Harry took it off, the owl flew out the door without a sound.  Perplexed, Harry opened the note.

                        Lessons resume.  Get detention by Wednesday.

            "Snape," Harry muttered.  So he would learn the Killing Curse after all.

****

A/N:  *blushes*  I don't even want to know how long it's been.  I'm so sorry; time slips away so fast here.

            Anyone excited already for the PoA movie?  *grins*  "Double, double, toil and trouble, something wicked this way comes!"  Yes, well, onto the thank-yous!!!

Shrimpo/Jewels:  ^_^

Cloud:  ^_^  Thanks.  And yeah, I just decided in writing to use first names more often. :P

Liliana-Suger:  *blush*  Wow, thanks.  And yes, Sirius is staying alive for now.

Slycat-blaze1:  Thank you.

Karceoles:  Okay, I'll admit this:  I basically killed Hagrid to save myself from having to write him in.  *blush*  But I'm working with it now, so anything could come from it.  And I promise I don't kill off everybody.  ^_^  Thank you.

Jona:  With the last chapter. ^_~  All I'll say is Sirius is going to stay alive for the moment.  Thank you for the review, Jo.

Gemstone121:  Thanks!

Colibi:  Thank you.

Louise Luvgood:  Ooh, sugar quills. ^_^  Christmas break is coming up soon, so hopefully I'll be able to read your stuff then.  Thank you for the review!

Alannah:  Thank you. ^_^

Tanya:  Yeah, I know Archimedes was learned, but I don't really recall his story.  Yours seems right. ^_^  And you are too clever for your own good, so I shan't say anything. ^_^  Thank you!

Alexa:  Thank you.

Call-me-00Kat:  Okay, yes, I know, I'm horrid, but it's here!  Thank you for making me hurry along and get it up. ^_^

FireAngel3:  Thank you.  And no, sorry, Azar isn't coming back.  ^_^

AJ-Wolf-AJ:  *lol*  Thank you. 

Illusoire:  Thank you for the big reminder that I'd been horrid about updating.  I needed it. ^_^

Aalikane:  Wow, was it really that long of a time?  Sorry, but hey, it's here.  Thank you for reviewing.

HarryPotter21:  Thank you. ^_^

            A special thanks to my beta and everyone else who kept reminding me this chapter wasn't up.

            Must go now.

            Be excellent to each other.

            -Ady