Harry sat in his chair, grinning, waiting in anticipation of news - any good news about Sirius. Why does Dumbledore have that grim face on? As the minutes ticked by, Harry began feeling nervous, but he kept his grin on - he knew it would be good news, he just knew it. Just as he could no longer stand the silence, Dumbledore, at last, spoke, "Harry…this may come as a shock to you." Harry felt his grin slowly slide off his face. Harry stood up.

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"After you disappeared through time, Sirius could not accept the fact that you were gone. Perhaps the death of James was more of a strain to his mind than everyone and himself perceived - and then, when you went, his mind just cracked."

"I…I don't understand what you're saying, " Harry stammered, not willing to believe what Dumbledore was saying.

"Sirius is currently at St. Mungo's." Harry fell back in his seat. He stared at the carpet for long time. Sirius can't be insane! No! He's strong - STRONG! Not Sirius….Dumbledore kept a respectful silence for Harry's feelings. All of the portraits around the room began fidgeting, feeling tense and worrying about whether Harry would blow up and begin tearing up the headmaster's office again. At last Harry spoke in a broken voice,

"Prof..Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Can I go see Sirius?" Dumbledore sighed again.

"You may, Harry, however you will have to wait a couple of more weeks until the summer holidays come. It will simply be too suspicious for you to leave Hogwarts during this time of the month." Harry nodded his head. He didn't care, as long as he could see Sirius.

Day after day past and Harry would sometimes watch Ron and Neville playing wizard's chess or observe Hermione and Luna who would be found sitting in a corner reading. But most often he would sit by the window of his room, and gaze blankly at the lake or at the students going about their daily activities. The others were aware of his depression and would often try to comfort him, but he would snap at them, thus they kept out of his way and his temper.

Ginny was the only one who would consistently try to cheer him up. She would try talking to him, offering him books about quidditch and defense against the dark arts, order him to walk around a bit, visit Hagrid. But whatever she did, it was to no avail.

"Harry, do you want to go take a walk around the lake?" Ginny asked one day during the last week of term. Harry shook his head and looked out the window again. Ginny didn't have any more patience with Harry - she was worried. "Harry! I know you're depressed about Sirius's condition, but losing yourself like this is not going to help Sirius!" She then softened her tone, "Harry! Sirius doesn't want to see you like this! He's want you to live -"

"Live? Then why couldn't he have kept sane! I don't want him to go insane, but did he ever think about that? Why should I care what he would want for me, if he doesn't care for what I would want for him?" Harry had yelled this and everyone in the room had stopped to listen. Including Luna.

"Why? Because you love him! Even if you don't want to care about what he wants - have you thought about m..us?" Ginny shouted, blushing furiously for stuttering the last part. Harry stared at her. He hadn't so much as thought about their existence other than the fact that they would continuously nag him to do something. He scanned the room. Hermione had put down her book and was looking at him with nothing but concern written all over her face, she was crying. Ron was looking down at his feet and frowning. Neville looked Harry right in the eye and then looked down. Even Luna had an expression of pity on her face. He turned back to face Ginny. She looked angry. But Harry was grateful for all of their expressions - because it meant that they cared. Here he was wallowing in self-pity, and mouring alone about Sirius, blaming Sirius for his state of mind, thinking that nobody cared, when in fact, everyone cared. He hadn't realized that someone from the group would get up and try to say something to him, he hadn't realized that he had actually become the object of everyone's concern - because he, himself, had placed himself in the center as well. Harry felt burning shame rise in him. He no longer wanted to look into their faces, he wanted to run away and -

"Harry, it's ok," said Ginny soothingly. "It's ok to feel ashamed, to blame, to hate. Because it means that you feel and it means that you care, even if you aren't sure how to express it. Just try to understand that we're here for you and that we care for you." Harry swallowed the burning lump in his throat and wiped the solitary tear that had collected at his eye. He got up, took Ginny's hand and walked over to the others.

"I'm sorry you guys. I wasn't thinking right." The others beamed up at him because he was finally breaking out of his shell. Ginny's face was burning furiously. Ron sat their gaping at them and Hermione burst out in giggles. Harry looked at his friends, confused, and when he did finally realize that he was still holding Ginny's hand, he dropped it immediately and blushed. "Sorry," he muttered quickly.

"Well…uh, Harry…wanna game of chess or something?" Ron offered, feeling lighter than he had in days, now that Harry was slowly getting back to normal (if that was possible).

A grin began spreading across Harry's face, "Bring it on. Bring it on, mate."

The last few days ended like that. Harry more cheerful than he had been in weeks and the others' mood uplifted because their friend could now think about things more correctly. On the eve before the school was to be dismissed, Professor McGonagall walked into their room.

"You will not be leaving with the train tomorrow," she announced, "Professor Dumbledore would like you to meet him in his office tomorrow morning at eight in the morning. He will inform you about the visit with Sirius Black." Harry felt a his stomach jolt. When McGonagall was done, she walked back out of the room, leaving an excited buzzing in the atmosphere.

"Harry!" Hermione called excitedly, "You'll be able to see him tomorrow!"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry answered, slowly. He felt like he could breath much better than he had in the past two weeks. That evening, they retired to bed early in preparation for the morrow's event.

The next morning, the sextet got ready and arrived at Dumbledore's office at the appointed time. Dumbledore instructed them to travel by the floo network to St. Mungo's, he would apparate there shortly after them.

When Neville, the last person, finally stumbled out of the fire at the hospital for magical maladies, the group sat in the lobby to wait for Dumbledore. True to his word, seconds later, Dumbledore cracked out of thin air. Dumbledore led them through the corridors and up a few flights. When he stopped outside the ward, he turned around to face Harry.

"Are you ready for this, Harry?" he asked. Harry's heart was pounding forcefully and his hands had began sweating.

"Yes, Professor," he answered. The sextet followed behind Dumbledore and walked into the ward. Dumbledore led the way to a bed at the end of the room, with its curtains drawn closed around it. Dumbledore stepped back for Harry. Harry took a deep breath and pulled the curtains open.

"Hullo, Sirius."