Disclaimer – I own nothing besides the basic plot of this story, the characters etc all belong to JKR, Warner Bros etc.

Chapter Two – A Grim Old Return

Harry's feet landed hard on the stone pavement, and he fell to the ground outside the familiar door of 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Up, quick boy!" hissed Moody, pulling Harry up and hurrying inside the house.

A plump, red haired woman came running up the hallway towards them, and smothered Harry in a seemingly never-ending hug. "It's so good to see you Harry!" exclaimed Molly Weasley when she finally let go of him.

"You too, Mrs Weasley," said Harry whilst trying to catch his breath.

"You need fattening up! Look at you, skin and bone! I always thought those muggles treated you badly, not to worry though, I'm sure I'll sort it out. Did you get our card and cakes, by the way dear?" she asked.

"Yeah I did, thanks Mrs Weasley, they were really great."

"Well, happy birthday dear, sixteen! My word, it seems like yesterday that we saw you when you were just eleven and didn't know how to get onto platform 9 ¾!"

Harry could remember the incident only too well, and they spent a couple of minutes explaining what had happened to an amused Lupin, before Harry set off upstairs to find Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

Harry sighed as he walked up the stairs and looked at things that reminded him of Sirius. Even if it was simply a portrait of a random person Harry didn't know, it still had some resemblance to Sirius, which induced a new wave of sadness and self-blame over him. Harry wanted to be alone for a few moments, he needed to get used to the fact that he was in Sirius' house once more, but this time without Sirius himself. Knowing that his friends would probably be in the room that he and Ron usually shared, Harry made his way to the master bedroom where Sirius used to sleep.

He turned the silver doorknob and grimaced at the snake carved into it. The Black family, besides Sirius, were traditionally Slytherins. The whole house contained serpent relics and dark magical objects. That was partly the reason that Sirius had hated the house so much, in addition to the fact that most of the Black family's relatives were Death Eaters – supporters of Voldemort. He entered the room to find a huge four-poster bed, a writing desk, chair and a couple of wardrobes. Although the room was very large this was basically all it contained, so it looked empty and uncoordinated. The room had dark green wallpaper, with a disgusting black pattern on it. Harry didn't blame Sirius for spending most of his time up in Buckbeak's room; this wasn't exactly homely and welcoming.

Something on the desk was caught Harry's eye. He looked over and saw a small mirror that seemed to be reflecting the light shining through into the room from the hallway. He went over and picked it up, tears welling up as he did so. This was Sirius' half of the two-way mirror he had given to Harry. Sirius had told him to use it if ever he needed to talk, but Harry hadn't. "If only I'd thought of this, if only I'd remembered he'd…he'd still be alive," thought Harry, tears freely streaming down his face now. Sirius had died in the Department of Mysteries last year after Voldemort tricked Harry. He knew that if he had just bothered with Occlumency it never would have come to that, he would never have had the vision. Since then Harry had been practising Occlumency properly every night before he slept, really focusing on clearing his mind. He couldn't bear if he was tricked again, if he was yet again the reason that someone died. Although he'd had no more visions as such, his sleep was generally still disturbed and plagued by nightmares of that night in the Ministry of Magic.

He heard the door creak slightly and looked around, wiping his cheeks and eyes quickly to try and make it look as if he hadn't been crying. It was Ginny standing at the door, a look of pity written on her face.

"Hiya Harry, can I come in?" she asked timidly.

"Um yeah alright," said Harry, placing the mirror back on the desk and wiping his eyes once more.

"It's good to see you, I know the summer can't have been great or anything what with…well you know, but how have you been?" Ginny said, as she came into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, looking round with a sad expression.

"Fine. I've been fine, thanks," Harry replied quickly, he really didn't want her to know he'd been crying.

"There's no point pretending," she said, "knowing you you've probably been blaming yourself all summer, it's the type of silly thing you would do. Am I right?"

"Well…you would be blaming yourself too if your stupidity meant that someone died!" replied Harry, rather more harshly than he had intended. Honestly though, he thought, none of them seemed to understand how he was to blame. Or if they did they were just pretending they didn't to try and make him feel better.

"Look, I know you've been told this before, but Sirius would have been proud to die to save you, Harry! He loved you more than anyone or anything in the whole world. If we were in the Department of Mysteries again he'd have done the same thing, I know he would."

"That's not the point!" Harry's voice was raising now, the anger and grief welling up inside of him. "I should have been stronger, he should never have had to go to…to that place at all! It was my fault he died." Harry bent his head as the tears tumbled down his face once more, trying to hide his face from her.

Ginny walked over and hugged him, and he broke down, his body shaking, unable to hold in his grief any longer. She didn't let go until he stopped, but just stood there hugging him, not saying a word.

"Thanks," he muttered a couple of minutes later. "Look I'd better go and find Ron and Hermione, you coming?"

"Yeah sure, come on," said Ginny, and they walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

Harry found Ron and Hermione bickering over their game of exploding snap – "no change there, then!" thought Harry.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione, and she rushed over to him and welcomed him in a reaction similar to Mrs Weasley's, only this time he was nearly suffocated by Hermione's mane of bushy, light brown hair.

"Alright mate? Happy birthday, you can have your present tomorrow, I still need to wrap it!" exlaimed Ron, clearly pleased to see his best friend once more.

They had clearly come to an agreement that Harry was likely to open up and speak to them about what had happened when he decided he was ready, and not before, so there was little point pestering him to talk. Harry was glad about this, he certainly didn't want any of Hermione's know-it-all comments on the subject of Sirius' death, and Ron just generally never knew what to say so he was unlikely to have been of much help. Harry had previously decided that if he ever needed to talk to someone properly, the best person was probably Professor Lupin. Lupin had been best friends with Sirius and Harry's parents, and he was the last surviving member of the Marauders, besides Wormtail the traitor who was a death eater and responsible for Voldemort being able to kill Harry's parents. There was now, however, a second person who seemed able to give good advice – Ginny. Harry was glad of this; at least it meant he would have someone else to talk to when they returned to school in September.

There was, of course, something else bothering Harry, besides Sirius' death – the prophecy of which Dumbledore had informed earlier in the summer:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark his as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

The prophecy had been told by Sybil Trelawney, a professor at Hogwarts who taught Divination and thought herself to be a rather gifted seer. She was, however, quite useless at it, besides the two times she had ever made a real prediction. This prophecy meant that either Harry had to kill Voldemort, or he had to be murdered by Voldemort. As of yet Harry had told no one of the prophecy, only Dumbledore knew its contents. It was a huge weight on Harry's shoulders, but he couldn't bear to burden his load on someone else, or, for that matter, be on the receiving end of more unearned pity and sympathy.

After a quick game of Wizard's Chess that Ron easily won Mrs Weasley called them downstairs for a birthday supper. Harry was starving as he'd only eaten a bit of breakfast that morning and a sandwich for lunch. As always, Mrs Weasley's cooking was excellent and soon Harry was full to bursting. He spent the evening talking to Remus and Tonks, who seemed to have been spending a lot of time together recently. Although Remus was clearly still mourning Sirius' death, he was trying his best to act normal and get on with his life, probably as an example to Harry. Harry couldn't help but notice Tonks' cheeks turn faintly pink whenever Remus spoke to her, or the smile that played at the corner of Remus' mouth whenever she was around. If Harry wasn't very much mistaken they had become more than just friend over the past few months. He was very happy for them, it was time Remus had something nice in his life; being a werewolf made it very difficult for him to live as a normal wizard. Harry made a mental note to drop a few subtle hints that he was really pleased for them whenever he could.

Eventually, at well past midnight, Harry and Ron went up to their room and went to bed, exhausted from such a busy evening.