CHAPTER THREE: Breaking Free

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was silent for the first time since Harry had discovered it's existence the summer before. He was actually surprised that no one was around to check on him. Even more surprising was that Ron had risen before him. He hoped Ron hadn't noticed the fitful night he had. Then again, Ron was a naturally deep sleeper so he probably hadn't. The dreams refused to let up and he was lucky to get five hours of uninterrupted sleep a night.

He really hadn't meant to worry his friends, but he had stopped writing them partway through the summer because he didn't know what else to say to them. He thought once he was under the Dursley's rule for a few weeks, his mind would drift away from the events of the previous school year. He was doing all right until his birthday came around and realized there would be no gift from his godfather this year. Where he should have been sad, he only felt anger. Everyone was expecting him to go through the grieving process, but he couldn't even do that right. Instead of knowing Sirius Black his whole life like he should have, his godfather had spent the majority of it locked away in Azkaban prison. Just when they were on the verge of really getting to know each other, he had ruined everything. Hermione had been dead on when she had said he had a hero complex. Every time someone was in danger, he had to be the one to come charging in. The worst part of all – and the reason he blamed himself for Sirius' death – was he could have prevented it. If he had put serious effort into his Occlumency lessons with Snape, Voldemort would no longer have been able to see into his mind and plant those images of Sirius in danger.

That was the cause for the dreams he'd been having. The ones that always ended the same way. Sirius rushing in to rescue him and then falling through that veil. Since that was how it had ended in reality, he knew it would never change in his dreams. It was his punishment for killing his godfather.

"Harry?"

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of Remus Lupin's voice. Harry walked further ahead and found his professor sitting in a ragged looking armchair in the den. He looked the way Harry felt. His face was haggard and drawn. He had even spotted a few more gray hairs. The full moon had to be close, at least within a day or two.

"Where is everyone?"

"I believe Molly and Ginny went to pick up a few things from the store. I don't know where Ron or Hermione went off to, but I'm sure they'll be back soon," he added, seeing the look of apprehension on Harry's face. "Let's just hope it's before Molly, otherwise Ron's going to have some serious explaining to do. I don't envy him if that happens." He looked at Harry still hanging back in the door frame and said, "you can come in, Harry. I won't bite – at least not for another forty eight hours," he joked. It helped to joke about his Lycanthropy on occasion. It sometimes helped others feel more at ease around him. "I know I must look rather dreadful, but that always happens so close to a full moon."

Harry stepped in the room and sat down from his professor on a nearby chair. "Do you need anything?"

"I was going to ask you that same question," said Lupin. Harry gave him a blank store and he continued. "I imagine you spent quite a bit of time alone while at your Uncle's house."

"Nothing I'm not used to," Harry stated. In truth, he found it preferable then being forced to be in the same room as the Dursley's.

"Dumbledore wanted to make sure you were safe. Until the extra safety measures were put in place, he didn't want to take a chance in bringing you here."

"Did he even bother to tell me he was doing that? No, I just got shoved off to the Dursley's like always. I don't even get a say in what goes on and it's my life. I'm really sick and tired of everyone treating me like some stupid kid, when I've been through more than most of them." He realized then he had been shouting, but Lupin didn't look angry. He looked sympathetic. Normally Harry hated being given looks of sympathy because they tended to be laced with pity, but there was no pity in Lupin's gaze.

"I remember being sixteen quite well," he said thoughtfully. "You think you're ready to face the world and everything it can throw at you, but you're really not. Harry, I know what you've seen and experienced, and I think that's all the more reason why everyone – the Weasley's, Dumbledore, and sometimes even myself – want to protect you from it. You've had to grow up without really getting the chance to grow up. But there's only so much we can shelter you from, and Dumbledore knows that. You'll have to make decisions that no one should have to make, and none of us will be able to interfere in them."

He almost wished Lupin hadn't given him that little speech. He was enjoying feeling angry.

"Have you been thinking about the prophecy?"

He shrugged. "There's not much to think about, is there? I have to kill Voldemort or be killed. It's simple."

"Not all prophecies turn out to be true, Harry. We all make our own choices and craft our own destinies."

"Do you really believe that about mine?"

"I think given everything that's happened up until now, there's a good chance it will come true."

At least Lupin had given him an honest answer. There was at least one adult in his life that would give him a truthful response.

"Have you told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy?"

"No, not yet."

"When you do tell them, they'll take it better than you think," Lupin told him.

He nodded and then stood as if to leave, but Lupin stopped him when he was halfway to the door.

"I know you hate the Occlumency lessons with Severus, but they're important, Harry. You should start them again as soon as possible."

He suppressed a groan. Hate didn't describe the feelings he had in connection with Snape and Occlumency lessons. Snape would undoubtedly find some way to break into his mind and make him feel worse then he already did.

"I talked with Dumbledore before you arrived and told him I believed it would be in your best interest if maybe you worked with someone else. It might help your progress. I may have overstepped my bounds in doing so but I suggested myself for the job."

Harry cracked a genuine smile, the first in weeks. "Really?"

"Before you say yes, it's only fair to tell you I'm not nearly as gifted in Occlumency as Professor Snape. I might actually end up hindering your progress rather than helping."

"I want to work with you," Harry stated adamantly.

Lupin beamed. "Then we'll get started on Friday. By then I'll be completely recovered from my transformation."

Just as he was thinking It was the best news he had received all summer, Lupin spoke again, and the excitement he was feeling at having Lupin as his professor again, even if it was just for Occlumency, quickly vanished.

"I'm not sure if you know this but Sirius left Grimmauld Place to you. This house is legally yours, Harry."

Harry's expression was unreadable. "The Order might as well keep using it because I don't want it." There was nothing he wanted less than to be in possession of a house that Sirius had grown up in and spent the last few months of his life in. One of the worst memories he had was of Kreacher answering his calls for Sirius when he had used the fireplace in Umbridge's office to make sure he was safe after his vision and telling him his godfather was gone, when Sirius had really been upstairs tending to an injured Buckbeak.

As it was, he hadn't even been at Phoenix headquarters a day and he already felt like he was drowning in the memories of Sirius, and the guilt that had gnawed away at him all summer was worse than ever before. The only consolation was that Lupin wasn't forcing the issue of his ownership of the Black house. It almost seemed like he had been expecting that to be his answer.

It was then Ron came walking in followed closely by Hermione. Their hair was soaked and their clothes were almost just as wet.

"What happened to you two?" Harry asked, glad for the distraction.

"We just went for a swim," Ron answered.

"Ah, I should have guessed that," said Lupin with a knowing smile.

Hermione placed one hand on her hip and looked accusingly at Ron. "You said Professor Lupin knew where we were going and that it was all right." She did not sound at all impressed by his deception.

"I knew you never would have agreed to it if we didn't have some sort of adult permission," he said in his defense. He looked to Harry and then to Lupin for support.

"You both should dry off before Molly gets back and sees you," Lupin said with a chuckle, in an effort to come to Ron's aid.

Ron looked positively mortified at the prospect of his mum finding out, but even as fast as he moved, Hermione was still the first one out of the den.

"Oh come on, you're not going to get mad at me about this, are you?" He said to her retreating back. "Even if you won't admit it, I know you had a good time," he added as an afterthought.

She couldn't turn around and face him, and it had nothing to do with being angry with him – it was quite the opposite. If he saw her face he would see how badly she was blushing.

"I'm not mad," she said, keeping her back to him.

He was fast, and with a few quick leaps forward he was standing in front of her. "That might be more convincing if you'd look at me while you said it."

He was playing with her. He knew why she wouldn't look at him. When did Ron get so perceptive? She soon realized their positions were coming dangerously close to what they had been like in the water. But she backed away from him in an instant when she saw Harry emerge from the den. She announced loud enough for the both of them to hear that she was going upstairs to shower. Then she quickly climbed the stairs and disappeared.

"Is she mad at you?" Harry asked from behind Ron.

"I don't think so," he replied, still watching the stairs. He wasn't sure what they were at the moment, but things were definitely getting confusing.

Harry hadn't really felt up to going to Diagon Alley, but Ron had wanted to check out the latest Quidditch equipment for the upcoming season, especially for Keepers. Harry had received a letter from the school during the first week of summer stating that his ban from Quidditch was over. The upcoming school year had been looking bleak indeed until his lifetime ban had been lifted. He was sure Dumbledore had pulled a few strings to make it happen, but strangely enough he didn't feel indebted to the Headmaster for it.

Even stranger, Hermione, who never passed on a chance to visit Flourish and Blotts had tried to skive off going, saying she had too much work too do. Finally, after much persuasion, he and Ron had convinced her to come along. What he did notice was she and Ron made a point of not looking at each other for too long. Even after knowing them for this long, he still couldn't wrap his head around how they could fight so much and remain such good friends. But of all the rows they had gotten into over the time he had known them, the one in third year had been by far the worst. They had gone something like three months without speaking to each other because Ron had thought Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers. He never wanted to experience that again, being caught in the middle of one of their private wars.

They were in Diagon Alley now, and although Harry was doing his best not to stand out, people recognized him, even from halfway down the road. These same people who had ridiculed him and thought him starving for attention all of last year, were now watching him with mildly fearful expressions. Some didn't even have the courtesy to lower their voices as they talked about him loudly while he walked past. The only thing that had not changed was he was still the most talked about person in the wizarding world, only instead of people calling him crazy they were talking about what kind of hidden powers he had and that He Who Must Not Be Named must want whatever he possessed desperately in order to risk breaking into the Ministry. He blocked most of out effortlessly. He had grown so tired of people discussing his life, making wild theories and accusations when they knew nothing about him. It was much harder to ignore the changes in Diagon Alley because they were staring him straight in the face wherever he looked.

Aurors were patrolling up and down the streets, wands out in their hands. Parents kept their children close by, and many were walking with one hand in their pocket in case the need arose to draw their wand. No one seemed to dawdle by shop windows or stay in one spot for too long. They passed by shopkeepers who were only allowing a specified number of people into their shop at a time. The hours of operation for most businesses had changed significantly as well, with most closing by seven o'clock at the latest. It was a completely different Diagon Alley Harry was used to seeing. Everyone seemed to be taking Voldemort's return to the extreme. The rumours that the Dementors had switched their allegiances to Voldemort only served to intensify everyone's already heightened sense of fear.

That sense of fear spiked in Harry then. He didn't want to alarm Ron or Hermione, but he had been keeping an eye on two wizards who had been following them since they left the Leaky Cauldron. They kept a fair amount of distance back, pretending to window shop or converse with each other, but he had a gut feeling they were being followed. If they quickened their pace, there was a chance they could lose the tailing wizards. Since the crowd in Diagon Alley was the smallest he had ever seen it, it would prove to be more difficult to slip away without being seen.

"Harry, slow down!" Hermione called after him, as he started to speed up to the point where he was almost running.

"What's the rush, mate?" Ron asked, when they had caught up with him.

"We're being followed," he said as quietly as he could, but still loud enough that his friends would hear him. He was expecting to see some form of anxiety or fear spread across their faces, but all they did was exchange knowing looks with the other. "What's going on?"

"Look, we didn't want to tell you because we knew you'd get upset."

He looked from Ron to Hermione but their expressions revealed nothing. "What would I get upset about? Ron, what the hell is going on?"

"The two wizards following us are Aurors. They were hand picked by Moody," Hermione said in Ron's place. "There's probably members from the Order around here too."

Harry was furious. "There's been someone following us since we left the house, hasn't there?"

"Harry, it was the condition if we wanted to leave Grimmauld Place," Hermione said in an effort to calm him.

"You both knew about this?" He fumed. "And you didn't think to tell me?" Harry turned and started walking without waiting for an answer. It was bad enough that every adult he knew – with the exception of Lupin – thought he needed round the clock protection, now his best friends were in on it as well. Hermione and Ron fell into step beside him and he vented his frustration on them. "I'm not some fucking invilad. It anyone paid attention they would know I can handle myself. I don't need a twenty-four hour babysitter."

Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around. "So we should all sit back and do nothing, is that it, Harry? Voldemort's coming for you, but we'll all back off because you think you can handle him yourself. Are you looking to get yourself killed? Because that's exactly what's going to happen if you keep this up. So I'm really sorry that there's people who care about you and what to prevent that from happening."

Her voice was carrying so much, that everyone in the nearby vicinity who had not been staring at him before had stopped to listen. At Hermione's mention of Voldemort's name, the whispering and terrified looks increased, even more so because she had mentioned the Dark Lord by name.

"Hermione – "

Ron tried to intervene on Harry's behalf but she would have none of it. "I'm going to Flourish and Blotts, and when you decide to stop being a selfish idiot," she said, glaring pointedly at Harry, "come and find me." She turned on her heel and walked off, without so much as glance at either one of them.

He had never before been on the receiving end of her temper like that, and it made him feel horrible because she was right. "Let's get out of here," he said to Ron, desperate to be out of the prying eyes of the public. They hurried down the street and eventually were able to mingle with the crowd enough that they no longer stood out.

"She's blown up at me loads of times, and it only lasts a few days at most," Ron said in attempt to make him feel better. "Before you came, she only had me to boss around all summer. I think all the power's finally gone to her head."

They were right outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, when Harry said, "do you agree with Hermione?" Even before Ron answered, his hesitation told Harry everything he needed.

"We're your best friends, and if you can't see that we're on your side…" He trailed off unfinished, not sure what else to say.

"I don't have a death wish," Harry stated, and then walked inside the store.

Ron followed, wondering just who Harry was trying to convince with that statement.

They finally dared to meet up with Hermione at Flourish and Blotts some time later. She had calmed down considerably, which Ron attributed to her being alone with all those ruddy books for so long. She agreed to go with them to Florean Fortesque's Ice-Cream Parlour, and Ron thought maybe she and Harry would makeup, but they refused to even look at each other. Ron was starting to wonder if this was what Harry felt like every time he and Hermione would get into an argument. It was not a pleasant feeling being stuck in the middle, and having each one talk solely to him as if the other person was not present. It wasn't helping that Harry kept glancing around every few seconds, looking for Aurors or Order members watching them.

"Maybe there's a way we could get away from them," Ron suggested, when Harry looked over his shoulder for the hundredth time since they had sat down. Hermione shot him a warning look, but he pretended to ignore it. He had Harry's attention though. "If we split up they can't follow all three of us."

"No, they'll all follow me," said Harry darkly.

"You don't know that there's only two watching us," Hermione pointed out. "There could be plenty more that they didn't tell us about in case we tried something like that."

"I must be hearing things because it sounds to me like you're actually considering my suggestion," said Ron.

She pretended to look offended. She had to keep up the act that she was the reasonable one of the group after all. "There's a reason all these safety measures have been put in place."

"I know you've been wanting to visit your parents and this could be the perfect opportunity."

He knew how badly she missed her parents and he was using that against her. But just as there were measures put in place to protect Harry, the same had been done to protect her mum and dad. Nevertheless, the chance to see her parents was too good to pass up.

"If we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," she said, and she was speaking to the both of them now. Ron was giving her an 'I knew you wanted to break the rules' grin, and she had to fight down the urge to grin back. He would never let her live it down if he knew she was actually enjoying plotting their escape. She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "how far is Fred and George's shop from here?"

"Maybe about a five minute walk," Ron answered. "Why?"

"I think it's time we finally stopped by their new shop and said hello."

Since Fred and George left Hogwarts, and even before then, they had been developing a catalogue of nasty surprises and trick items – and had made quite a bit of money off of them. Now that they had accumulated quite a fair bit of wealth – thanks to Harry's tri wizard winnings – they were renting out one of the vacant shops in Diagon Alley to sell their joke paraphernalia. Their business was one of the few shops unaffected by Voldemort's return. It seemed that now more than ever people were looking for ways to take their minds off of what was going on, and went better way to do it then with hundreds of possible gag items, even some that had very nasty side effects.

She, Harry and Ron had ventured inside, and in the event that someone had followed them in it would have been extremely hard to keep track of the trio with all the patrons inside. There seemed to be more people crowded in the one shop then all of Diagon Alley. Young shoppers were enthusiastically testing and purchasing the latest joke gadgets. None seemed to mind when their hair changed colour or they sprouted nasty warts all over their hands. They just swallowed or sprayed an antidote and tried it again. Business was definitely booming for the twins.

Fred and George were ecstatic to see them. They had avoided Grimmauld Place for much of the summer, mainly because Mrs. Weasley was still furious they had not finished their final year at Hogwarts. They only stopped by for Order meetings now that they were of legal age and could join. Mrs. Weasley was a clever witch and had put a spell on the parchment the twins had signed to make them official members. If they discussed anything to do with the Order to non-members they would receive a rather nasty rash that would spread all over the bodies. Fred and George being who they were, had taken it upon themselves to try and break the curse. As soon as they did, the twins promised to tell them what they had been privileged to at Order meetings. Hermione didn't think that they should, but she kept that thought to herself. Besides, she was rather eager to know what was going on.

When they told the twins of their problem, Fred and George were only too happy to help. They gave them exactly what they would need free of charge – a Weasley on the house special – and then let them out through the door in the storage room, where all the extra stock was kept.

With the twins help, they escaped Diagon Alley and slipped into the muggle world unnoticed. The twins had somehow managed to develop the Polyjuice potion in pill form – it lasted twice as long in that state they told them. They had given Ron, Harry, and Hermione three capsules each. One would turn them into a non-descript person from the wizarding world, and the second was to change them into muggle teenagers quite different from themselves until they got a safe distance from the Leaky Cauldron. The ingenious part was you didn't have to wait for one disguise to wear off before you took the next pill and changed into someone different. The third and final pill would turn them back to their original form before their disguises wore off.

"Isn't it illegal to sell the Polyjuice potion?" Harry asked, once they were themselves again walking through the streets of London.

"Of course it is," Ron replied. "You would have a bunch of people running around with multiple identities. But Fred and George aren't stupid. They would never sell it to the public. The stuff they gave us was from their own private stash."

"We should have asked what they use it for," said Hermione.

Ron snorted. "Not like they would have told us. Those two have more secrets than the Department of Mysteries."

Ron's mentioning of the Department of Mysteries brought to mind the prophecy – something Harry didn't want to think about right then. "How much farther?" He asked her.

"It's just the next street over," she answered. Even going through everything they had to get to their place of destination, she and Harry still had not made up completely. She really hadn't meant to make a scene in Diagon Alley, but she felt that was the only way to get through to him. Maybe the two of them could talk it over later.

"This looks a lot like your neighbourhood, Harry," Ron observed, seeing the decent sized houses and expensive cars sitting in the driveways.

"Trust me, Ron, no one could be as particular as my Aunt. She's obsessed with keeping things orderly."

"See, that's my house. We're here," Hermione announced.

Her house was definitely one of the nicer ones on the street – and that was saying something considering how well done up the houses around it were. Ron didn't know what make of car was sitting in her driveway but it looked brand new.

"So Harry and I have a bet going," Ron said as they neared closer. "I say there's two hundred books in you room and he's guessing one fifty, so which one of us is right?"

She recognized what he was doing – besides trying to get a rise out of her. He was hoping to ease the tension between her and Harry. He was being a good friend and it made her realize she didn't want to fight with Harry anymore. She wanted to be on good terms with him when they saw her parents. She was about to turn around and smooth things over with him, when something glistening on her front door caught her eye that made the blood in her veins freeze. In red, glossy letters the word 'Mudblood' was painted across the door. The crimson colour looked like it might have been blood.

It was either Ron or Harry who grabbed her from behind to stop her, and despite that they were quite a lot stronger then her, she somehow managed to push them off and charge forward. The boys ran after her, but she had already taken out her wand and pushed the front door open…