AN

Wow! I got so many reviews for the prologue I decided to get this up sooner than I originally planned.

I'm skipping over the next 11 years completely, though I promise that we will find out more about the adventures Harry's had with his godfather through flashbacks and/or him telling Ginny about his life.

For the purposes of this fic, events such as the Chamber, Philosopher/Sorcerer's stone, Triwizard Tournament, etc.. NEVER HAPPENED. I know it's a stretch, but that's Alternate Universe for you. I do have alternate explanations that will come up later in the fic. And also, Voldemort HAS been re-born, that's another thing I'll explain in another chapter.

Thanks once more to JC-S, who in addition to being my co-writer (he helps me plan it), a great editor, the one who came up with "Stockholm Syndrome" as the name for this fic, and my brother, also lets me borrow his CDs! Listens to Switchfoot
Also thanks to Yavinbase, who isthe mostfantastic beta.

On with the story!

Disclaimer: see Prologue

Chapter 1

Kidnapping

Nearly 11 years later. . .

Harry glanced nervously from side to side as he walked quickly down Diagon Alley. He was cloaked and hooded, but he still felt as though everyone was watching him, as though they knew who he was. He had to avoid being recognized at all costs. If he were, the results would be disastrous.

No one knew what had become of him since that day when his godfather had come to take him away. Only Voldemort had known for sure that he was still alive, and now even he thought Harry was dead. It had to stay that way until he was ready. Ready to face the man who had killed his parents.

He was so absorbed in his morbid thoughts, he failed to notice the young, redheaded girl walking towards him with her head bent low. Consequently, he ran straight into her, knocking her flat.

"Oh!" he cried. "I'm SO sorry. Here, let me help you." He held out his hand to help her up, and then bent to pick up the shopping bags she had dropped when he knocked into her. He glanced up at her and froze.

Her long, dark red hair was spilling over her shoulders, seeming to reflect every bit of light left in the now darkening alley. Her soft, chocolate brown eyes sparkled with mirth, perhaps at his embarrassment, and her face was lit up with a stunningly brilliant smile.

He sucked in a breath. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

As he watched, her eyes suddenly widened in shock, and he realized, too late, that she had seen his scar.

"Y-y-y-you're - you're," she stuttered.

Thinking fast, and still clutching her shopping bags, Harry glanced around to make sure no one was watching and clamped a hand over her mouth. He dragged her down a small alley. She struggled mightily, and it was all he could do to keep his hold on her. She managed to kick his shin and he winced - she was strong, despite her small size.

He pushed her against the wall, keeping his hand over her mouth. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you," he said hurriedly. "I just can't have you screaming out my name all over the Alley. Promise you won't scream?"

She nodded into his hand, and he released her slowly, in case she decided to scream anyway.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes still bright with fear.

"Everyone thinks I'm dead," he whispered. "It has to stay that way for now."

He could tell she didn't understand. He hurriedly tried to come up with a solution to the mess he had managed to land himself in, but the sound of footsteps approaching them interrupted him.

Left with no alternative, he grabbed her hand and disapparated.

They reappeared outside a seemingly empty lot, in a rather seedy-looking section of muggle London.

Her eyes widened once more in fear and anger as he pulled her forward by her hand. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

He turned back to her, his eyes softening when he realized how scared she was, probably of him. "12 Grimmauld Place," he whispered. She gasped as a house suddenly appeared before her very eyes where the empty lot had been a moment before.

"Come on," he said hastily. "Inside."

She shook her head defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere. I demand that you take me back right now!"

"Then I'm sorry," he whispered sadly. "Stupefy."

She didn't even have time to blink as a red stream of magic leapt from his palm and struck her square in the chest. He caught her before she hit the ground, and carried her gently into the house.

"SIRIUS!" he roared at the top of his lungs as he climbed the stairs. "We've got a problem!"

He kicked open the door of an empty bedroom and set her gingerly on the bed, propping her head up on a few pillows.

Running footsteps announced the approach of his godfather, and a moment later the older man was panting in the doorway.

"Sweet Merlin, what have you done?" he breathed.

"I didn't have a choice!" Harry said, annoyed. "She recognized me, and someone was coming. I panicked!"

"You could have memory charmed her!" Sirius retorted angrily.

"You think that didn't occur to me? Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, you know that!" Harry's eyes were flashing in anger. "Besides, I wasn't the one who decided that I had to go to Diagon Alley today to get money. No, in fact I wanted to wait until we got more make-up to hide my scar, but you insisted."

Sirius' shoulders slumped. Harry was right. If he hadn't been so insistent that Harry go, this wouldn't have happened.

"So what now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry said worriedly, glancing at the girl on the bed. "What can we do? If we let her go, she's bound to let it slip to someone, and if we memory charm her, it can be broken."

Sirius sighed in resignation. "She'll have to stay here, then."

"We can't make her stay here, Paddy! She probably has family she'll want to go back to!" Harry said indignantly, although the idea of her staying there with them wasn't all that unappealing....

Sirius grinned. "You like her don't you?"

"What?" Harry spluttered as his face reddened. "N-no, of course not. I just met her, how can I like her? Utterly ridiculous..." He realized he was starting to ramble and shut up immediately.

Sirius shrugged. "If you say so. You just seem to have a soft spot for her."

"Shut up, you," Harry muttered. "I don't think it's fair to keep her here, that's all."

"I know, I know, and I agree with you. But it's for her own good, you know. If Voldemort found out she saw you, he'd hunt her down to find out for sure. Beyond that, if he found out you're still alive, our plans would fall apart, and that would be disastrous for the entire world."

Harry sighed. "Alright, she stays. . . until it's safe at least." He glanced at his godfather. "You'd better let me tell her. I doubt she'll react very well to an escaped convicted murderer."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "You'd better wait to wake her up. We have to set some things up around the house so that she can't escape, as she'll undoubtedly attempt to do."

Harry stood apprehensively next to the bed on which the girl was still unconcious. A thousand questions ran through his head. Did she have a family that was worrying about her right now? What was her name? Where was she from?

He felt a rush of guilt as he realized that it was his fault that she was going to have to stay here, away from all those she loved. If he had just looked where he was going, she would probably be at home, enjoying dinner with her family.

He waved his hand and whispered, "Ennervate," then backed away nervously.

She stirred slightly and groaned, "Where am I?"

Though he wasn't quite sure she was expecting an answer, Harry replied, "You are in my godfather's house."

Startled, her head snapped over to look at him, and she leapt out of bed to back against the far wall. "You!"

"Easy," said Harry placatingly, raising his arms in a gesture of peace. "I just want to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about," she snapped, eyes wildly searching the room for an escape route. "You kidnapped me."

He winced. "True, and I am really sorry about that, but it was necessary."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

He shook his head. "Sorry, I can't answer that. You already know too much as it is."

She glared at him. "So what do you want?"

"Want?" he repeated, surprised. "I don't want anything."

"Then why are you keeping me here?"

He hung his head sadly. "Because you recognized me. Nobody can know that I'm in England, or even alive, for that matter. It's too dangerous."

"Look, just let me go," she pleaded. "I promise I won't tell anyone what I saw."

"I'm sorry. I can't risk it. You have to stay here, for the time being at least." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "That's final," he said firmly. "There's some dinner over there," He motioned to a tray of meat and potatoes on the nightstand, "If you're hungry."

Her only response was a glare, and he sighed. "Right then, I'll leave you to it." He turned to go, but paused. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me your name?"

Once more she just glared at him. "Didn't think so," he murmured, turning once more to leave.

When he reached the doorway, her voice stopped him. "Ginny. Ginny Weasley," she said.

He turned around, surprised. She had a strange expression on her face, something he couldn't quite identify.

"Very well then," he said. "I shall see you in the morning. I must ask that you don't leave this room. Good night. . . Ginny."

And with that, he closed the door softly, careful to lock it before heading to his own room for the night.

Later that night, Harry awoke to the sound of gentle sobbing from the room next to his. His heart nearly broke at the sound of it, and he resisted the urge to bang his head on the headboard of his bed in frustration.

He felt so helpless, and so guilty. Ginny was trapped here with them, and it was all his fault, yet there was nothing he could do about it.

She hadn't done anything to deserve this. It wasn't as if she had been trying to recognize him. It wasn't fair. She should be at home, with her parents and brothers or sisters, laughing and joking and enjoying her summer holiday.

Why? Why did this sort of thing have to happen?

It all came back to Voldemort. He was royally screwing up every aspect of Harry's life, and now her life as well. Soon he would come out of hiding and screw up the rest of the world, and it was all up to Harry to stop him.

Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Harry's parents told Sirius all about the Prophecy that stated Harry was the one fated to kill or be killed by the Dark Lord, and consequently he had told Harry, though he had waited until Harry was 13 before doing so.

Harry shook that thought out of his mind the moment it appeared. Now was not the time to dwell on that. Their preparations were nearly in place. They had planned for too long to let anything stop them now. He had to remain focused on the objective.

Ginny's sobs had quieted, and Harry allowed himself to relax. He drifted off with the thought that tomorrow he would let her write to her family. Maybe that would cheer her up, if only just a little.

He knocked cautiously on Ginny's door the next morning, but received no answer. Frowning, he knocked again. Still there was no answer. He removed the magical locks from the door and eased it open, wondering what was going on.

She was there, sitting on the bed and staring out the window. Thinking, most likely, since the only thing visible through the window was the tiny backyard and a few horribly run-down houses.

"Hey," he whispered. It was more of a question than anything. She remained silent. He tried again. "Are you hungry?" She hadn't touched her dinner from the night before. Still she did not answer.

Starting to get frustrated with her lack of response, he growled out, "Fine, breakfast is in the kitchen if you change your mind."

He turned to leave, but she finally answered, "I thought I wasn't supposed to leave the room?" Her voice sounded hoarse. She still hadn't looked at him.

"Only at night," he answered quickly. "You can leave during the day."

She finally turned around, and he noticed her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying again, then. The reality of her situation had probably sunk in.

She said nothing more, just stood up and watched him.

Taking that as acceptance of his invitation, he motioned for her to follow him and walked out of the room.

He glanced at her as they descended the stairs together. She was staring at her feet, silent.

She looked up suddenly, and her eyes met his. The sorrowful look there made him want to reassure her somehow, but he wasn't sure how he could. Reassurance from him probably wouldn't be welcome anyway.

She looked away when they reached the kitchen, and Harry sighed inwardly. This was not going to be easy.

They found Sirius with his back to them, humming as he tried to fry eggs.

"Sirius!" Harry cried, laughing. "What are you doing?"

Sirius turned around and held up the pan with the eggs, grimacing at the smell coming from them. Harry felt, rather than saw, Ginny shrink back slightly at the sight of the convicted murderer.

"I'm making breakfast," said his godfather defensively.

Harry put a hand to his forehead and massaged it wearily. "How many times have I told you, let me make breakfast? Every time you do it, I have to come back and re-do it anyway."

"Hey, you're not that great either," Sirius whined.

Harry snorted. "At least my cooking is edible."

"I resent that."

"You should."

Sirius, either deciding that Harry was right or that it was an argument he couldn't win, turned to Ginny, who took a step back as he noticed her.

"Up and about I see," he said lightly. "Feeling any better?"

She stared at him warily, saying nothing, and Harry shook his head almost imperceptibly at his godfather. Best to just leave her be for now.

Sirius got the message. Straightening, he said, "Right then, I'll get some dishes out. Harry if you'd just..." he motioned to the mess on the counter and stove.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'll clean up your mess and make us something we can actually eat."

"Excellent," his godfather replied brightly, as he set about gathering various things from the cupboards.

Harry grasped Ginny, who was still staring warily at Sirius, by the elbow, and led her to an empty chair at the rough wooden kitchen table.

"Just wait here a moment, and I'll get you something," he whispered.

Soon the table was loaded with strips of crispy bacon, fried eggs, fried sausages, and slices of toast.

Harry and Sirius dug in with much gusto, and Ginny, whose hunger seemed to have finally caught up with her, ate nearly as well as they did, though much slower.

When they were all finished, Sirius leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach happily. "Good stuff, Harry."

Harry eyed his godfather's stomach. "Not that you needed it, of course."

Sirius punched his arm, slightly harder than necessary. Harry glared at him and rubbed his bicep. "Hey! Not so hard!"

"Don't be such a pansy, Harry," said Sirius with a cheeky smile.

Harry just glared at him, muttering to himself. He decided to ignore his godfather and instead turned to Ginny, putting on what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Would you like to go into town today?" he asked.

She blinked. "What?"

"I said, 'would you like to go into town today?'" He repeated more slowly. "You're going to need some clothes and things while you are here. I thought we could get that taken care of."

"Um. . .Okay," she said uncertainly.

"Excellent," said Harry, beaming. "We'll go this afternoon. In the meantime, you're welcome to write a letter to anyone you wish. My Phoenix will carry it for you. The only things I ask are that you not mention where you are or who you are with."

"I can write my family a letter?" she asked incredulously.

Sirius laughed. "Of course you can. Regardless of what you might think, we are not evil kidnappers. We are only keeping you here for your safety, as well as our own."

She stared at him, obviously disbelieving him, but equally as obviously wary of arguing with an escaped murderer.

Harry chuckled. "Come on, I'll get you a quill and some parchment."

He took her upstairs and into the library. He motioned to a desk with various writing materials strewn across it, and then he opened one of the exceedingly large windows in the room and went about gathering a few books from the shelves while she sat down.

The sound of her scribbling quill was the only thing he heard for a while, until it suddenly stopped. He glanced up from his book in surprise, only to find her seemingly struggling to hold back tears.

He approached her cautiously, wondering what he should do. He wasn't exactly her friend. Should he try and comfort her somehow?

He settled for laying a hand on her shoulder and saying softly, "Hey. It'll be alright, you know."

She flinched away from his touch. "What would you know about it?" she shouted angrily.

His eyes turned diamond hard, as he unflinchingly met her angry gaze. "You forget, Miss Weasley, that I lost my parents when I was only a year old. The only person I have left in the world is Sirius. I know exactly what it is like to long for family."

He whirled and strode quickly towards the door. He paused in the doorway, and added coldly, "Frost will be along shortly to collect your letter. As I'm sure you won't want me to read it, he'll check it over to ensure you haven't revealed anything you shouldn't have. I warn you, he is extraordinarily smart, even for a phoenix. You will not be able to fool him."

And with that, he headed for his room, robes billowing behind him.

When he was safely inside, his body began to change shape. Within seconds, a magnificent blue and white phoenix stood where Harry had been only a moment before.

Feeling slightly guilty about the deception, Harry flew back to the library and landed lightly on the desk in front of Ginny.

She stared at him in awe and reached up to stroke his head softly. "You're beautiful," she pronounced quietly.

Harry trilled softly in response, and she giggled. "Are you here to read my letter, then?"

He dipped his head, and she said, "Alright, I'm finished. Go ahead and read it."

He glided to her shoulder and rested there to read what she had written.

Dear Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy (I hope), Fred, George and Ron,

He glanced at her in surprise. That was an awful lot of family. She grinned in response. "Harry was right, you are very smart. And yes, those are all my brothers."

I'm sorry for worrying all of you. I want you to know that I am alright.

I have been kidnapped by a couple of Death Eaters, whose names I am not allowed to mention, of course. As of yet, I have not been harmed, and for some strange reason, I don't think I shall be either.

They say that I'm only being held because I saw something that could endanger my life, and I'll be released as soon as it's safe. I'm not sure whether I believe that or not.

Harry stared at the last few lines for a moment. She thought he was a Death Eater?

'Of course she does you git,' his inner voice said exasperatedly. 'You're on quite obviously friendly terms with Sirius Black, whom everyone thinks is a Death Eater, and you kidnapped her. Why wouldn't she think you're one as well?'

I don't know when or if I'll be able to come home, but I promise I'll keep you all informed. They have allowed me to write this letter, and I think they'll let me write more.

Remember that I love you all, and I hope we'll see each other again soon.

Love,

Ginny

He trilled to let her know he was finished, and then stared at her as she put it in an envelope and started writing an address on that.

He couldn't imagine how hard it must be for her to be torn from her family, with no real idea of whether or not she would ever see them again. At least he hadn't had to deal with the uncertainty of not knowing.

She didn't believe them when they told her they'd let her go as soon as they could. He couldn't exactly blame her though. She had been kidnapped and was now being held prisoner by people she thought were supporters of Voldemort.

He had to convince her somehow that she'd be able to go home eventually, but how? She would have to trust him, and it was unlikely she would do so.

He shook his head to clear it. No time to think about that now. He had to deliver her letter. She held it out to him and he clamped it firmly in his beak.

She stared at him for a moment, before realization hit her. "Oh, I'm sorry. You need to know where to go, don't you?"

He gave her an exasperated look, and she blushed. "My house is near Ottery St. Catchpole," she said. "It's called the Burrow, and it's a little lopsided. Look for a bunch of redheads. Can you find it?"

He trilled in response, though it sounded a little muffled since his beak was full, and flew out the window he'd opened earlier.

Soon he was gliding happily above above the clouds, with the bright sun beating down on his back. Phoenixes have a nearly unique ability to disappear and then reappear elsewhere, similar to wizarding apparation. Harry, however, did not use that particular mode of travel that day, electing instead to enjoy the feeling of freedom that came from soaring effortlessly hundreds of feet in the air.

All too soon, he had reached the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, and was circling the area looking for the house Ginny mentioned. She hadn't mentioned in which direction it lay, but that mattered little to a phoenix. Highly attuned to magic of all kinds, they were able to sense when it was nearby, and Harry soon located the Burrow, which was a veritable hotspot of magical activity.

Her description of the house, while brief, was fairly accurate. It was indeed quite lopsided, and appeared to be held up only by several charms.

Harry flew to the kitchen window and peered in. There appeared to be eight people in the kitchen - six males and one female, all with bright red hair, and an elderly man with silver hair and beard that both reached down past his waist. This was definitely the place.

He took the opportunity to observe them for a moment, unnoticed. The female, a woman whom Harry took to be Ginny's mother, was crying on the shoulder of the oldest looking redheaded man - most likely Ginny's father.

The rest of the redheads appeared to be in various emotional states ranging from shock, to grief, to anger. Two of them appeared to be slightly older, most likely already out of Hogwarts. Then there were identical twins, probably 17 or 18, and lastly the youngest (yet somehow also the tallest) that was probably around Harry's own age.

No one had seen him so, beak full, Harry gripped the window ledge with one claw and raised the other to rap on the glass.

Within seconds, the redhead with the long hair pulled into a ponytail had opened the window, and Harry flew straight for the ones he assumed were Ginny's parents, dropping the letter on the table in front of them and alighting on the back of an empty chair.

Everyone stared at him in shock for a moment, except for Ginny's mother, who was staring at the envelope on the table.

"It's from Ginny!" she cried, trying to tear the envelope open, but having a difficult time of it because her fingers were trembling uncontrollably.

Everyone's eyes immediately snapped to her, and several of them cried at the same time, "What?!"

Mr. Weasley, seeing that his wife was unable to open the letter on her own, gently pried it from her trembling hands and slit it open with his forefinger. When he had it out, he read the contents aloud to everyone.

By the time he had finished, everyone was talking at once; arguing about whether or not the letter was actually from Ginny, about whether she really was unhurt, and about where she could possibly be.

A powerful voice suddenly rang out above all the rest. "Silence!" it cried.

Harry looked in surprise at the silvery-haired wizard, who had apparently been the one to speak. Then it hit him. The half-moon glasses, the twinkling bright blue eyes, the crooked nose.

Oh. Bloody. Hell.

It was Albus Dumbledore, the famed headmaster of Hogwarts, and the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. Not the person Harry wanted to see when he was trying to keep his identity, and indeed, the fact that he was even alive, a secret. If he found out Harry was actually an animagus and not a real phoenix. . .

He shook himself mentally. Try not to think of that. Focus on the matter at hand, he couldn't flee now - it'd look too suspicious. Best to play it cool and hope the old man didn't figure him out.

Everyone had been quieted by the commanding tone of the aging headmaster's voice. Amazing, really.

Dumbledore spoke again, "Thank you. Now, Molly, Arthur, is that your daughter's handwriting?"

Ginny's parents nodded numbly, apparently unable to speak.

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Then for now, we must assume that is indeed from her. Hopefully, what she wrote is the truth, though we cannot dismiss the possibility that she was forced to write it that way.

"I believe we can call off the searches in and around Diagon Alley now, as it seems clear that she has been taken, and it is unlikely the kidnappers would have stayed near such a populated area."

"Is there nothing you can do, Albus?" Molly suddenly asked. "Some spell or something. . .anything?"

"I am afraid not, Molly," said Dumbledore with a sad shake of his head. "I have tried every tracking and locating spell that I know of, and none of them have had any effect whatsoever. Whoever took her is either very powerful, or very smart, perhaps even both. This is very troubling, since the only wizard I know of that is powerful enough to fit that description is Voldemort."

Everyone in the room but Harry and Dumbledore flinched when he said the Dark Lord's name, and Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation. Wizards were such cowards when it came to Voldemort. He focused once more on Dumbledore when the old man started speaking again.

"As you all know, I have been trying for the last year to convince the Ministry that Voldemort has risen again, ever since a. . .friend of mine was summoned by the Dark Lord. I have had little success, and I doubt I shall have any until he comes out into the open and starts attacking. I am afraid it is possible that he is the one behind the kidnapping of young Miss Weasley, though it is strange that she only mentions Death Eaters in her letter, and not Lord Voldemort himself."

His eyes came to rest on Harry as he continued, "Also strange, besides the fact that they apparently let her write a letter at all, is their use of a phoenix to deliver it."

Everyone was looking at Harry now, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable, though he tried hard not to show it.

"Sir," the Weasley boy with the tanned skin and burns all over said, "Aren't phoenixes supposed to be Light creatures?"

Dumbledore took his half-moon glasses off and wiped them off on his midnight-blue robes before replying, "That is a common misconception. The fact is that most phoenixes are Light creatures, except for two extremely rare breeds, distinguished by the color of their feathers. Black phoenixes are actually Dark creatures, and Blue phoenixes, such as this one, can be either Light or Dark."

"So do you think this one is Dark?" asked Arthur anxiously.

Dumbledore's brows were furrowed in thought. "I cannot be sure," he said slowly. "I do, however, think that there is more to this phoenix than meets the eye."

He stared shrewdly at Harry, and for a moment, the young man was afraid Dumbledore had discovered his secret. The moment passed, however, and Harry sighed inwardly in relief when the headmaster looked away.

"Isn't there anything we can do to find Ginny, Professor?" burst out the youngest redhead suddenly. He looked as though he was taking his sister's disappearance the hardest of all of them (excepting his mum, of course), though he was obviously trying not to show it.

"I'm afraid there is little we can do, Ronald," said Dumbledore sadly. "We will, of course, continue to investigate this matter, and I have no doubt the Ministry will search for her as well, but beyond that, it seems we are doomed to wait. In the meantime, I suggest you all write some letters back to young Miss Weasley, as it seems our messenger here is waiting for you to do so before he leaves. Remember, by the way, that right now he is your only link to her. It would not be wise to try to capture him or cast any sort of spell on him."

Each of the Weasley brothers wrote their sister a letter, and their parents wrote one for her together. They each tied their own to Harry's leg, and soon he was flying swiftly back to Grimmauld Place, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions.

AN

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review! but be gentle....

OK, so it wasn't really an accident that he kidnapped her. It was an accident that he was forced to kidnap her. ;)

Congrats to all who got the Stockholm Syndrome question correctly. The first person (on any site) to get it was David A. Brown

his review is a good explanation, that I'll quote here for those that want to know what it means:

Stockholm Syndrome is a psychological term. It refers to the relationship that sometimes develops between a kidnapper and his or her prisoner. From yahoo, "Stockholm Syndrome describes the behavior of kidnap victims who, over time, become sympathetic to their captors. The name derives from a 1973 hostage incident in Stockholm, Sweden. At the end of six days of captivity in a bank, several kidnap victims actually resisted rescue attempts, and afterwards refused to testify against their captors."

Remember Patty Hearst? Kidnapped by the SLA, and eventually joined them. That's Stockholm Syndrome.

review responses:

pudadingding: You know, I brought that subject (dialogue) up with both my beta and JC-S, and both of them seem to like the way I do it. I'm more inclined to agree with you, though. I'll certainly try to keep a good balance between the two.

NENI POTTER: Did you know you had your caps lock on? lol. Hope this chapter answers your question.

Panda Slippers: done

Anonymous: Just because I named it that doesn't mean that I'll actually make someone have it. They might just think they do, or other people think they do ;)

Brown Eyed Faerie: more like she'll fall for him o.0

Loony Moony: He's not going to Hogwarts. Everyone would wonder where he's been and they wouldn't let him go back to Sirius during the summer.

David A. Brown: You got it. Congrats on being the first to do so.