Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters, the only character I own was created by me (Clara)

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After Gryffindor's glorious victory against Ravenclaw, Harry's spirits soared. Following the game, the whole team went back to the common room and found a party there waiting for them. It was fantastic. The celebrations ran deep into the night and would have lasted even longer, if professor McGonagall hadn't have told them all to go to bed. As Harry lay down to go to sleep, he was unbelievably happy, for the first time in a long, long while.

In the days afterwards, however, his attentions switched from the Quidditch game, to the mystery of Clara's father. All they knew was that Snape used to be in love with Clara's mother and while Hagrid denied that Snape was the father, maybe Hagrid was lying. Harry always shuddered at this thought and couldn't help but think that this was impossible. How could sniveling and greasy black-haired Snape be a father to sweet and beautiful blonde-haired Clara? It didn't make since.

Even though it made no sense, Ron, Harry and Clara always tried to subtly ask Snape questions. If someone were to know who was her father, it would be Snape since he was in love with Genevieve, Clara's mom. He never seemed to give them any answers though, he just told them to shut up and get back to work.

"You'd think if he was so in love with your mom that he would be nicer to you," added Ron bitterly as Snape stalked away from them.

"Maybe he's mad because he's not the father," added Harry hopefully.

Clara laughed and sighed, "I think Hagrid was telling the truth you guys; I don't think my mother would have ever been with him." She was looking over at Snape thoughtfully trying to figure it all out.

As the bell rang though, she shook herself out of it and they left the dungeons. They headed to lunch where they argued back and forth the possibilities until Ron let out exasperatedly, "How about you just ask Dumbledore! If you talked to him, he might change his mind."

Harry looked up and quickly said, "Ron, that is the first good idea you've had all year!" If Clara talked to Dumbledore, maybe he would change his mind, or at least they would know why he wouldn't tell them.

As Harry smiled at them both, Ron shot back defensively at him, "I have plenty of good ideas!" Harry laughed with Ron as Clara shook her head.

"Harry, I don't know. Does Dumbledore really need me bothering him about my father?" she asked timidly.

"Dumbledore would understand; you would think that he wouldn't have enough time to care, but he does. He'll either tell you who your father is or he'll explain why he can't. It's a win-win situation," Harry answered with encouragement. Clara just looked from Harry to Ron then Ron to Harry and finally sighed.

"Your right….." she paused, "How soon can I talk to him?"

It was going on midnight and Clara had already gone to talk to Dumbledore. She had left hours ago and she still wasn't back; Harry couldn't tell if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Him and Ron just sat quietly pretending to do their homework while waiting patiently for her return.

"That's it," said Ron as he slammed down his pen and parchment, "I can't concentrate at all!"

"Me neither"sighed Harry as he set his things down. He looked around the common room and noticed that the only people left were: him, Ron and three second years laughing in the corner; Harry figured it must have been extremely late. "Ron, do you think we should try and go to sleep? I mean, even if Clara does come back knowing who her father is, she probably won't wanna tell us right away."

"And why in the bloody hell would she not want to tell us?" asked Ron lightheartedly

"Well, when I first found out that Sirius was my godfather and that he wasn't trying to kill me, I wanted to just talk to him without anyone else there, you know?" said Harry, not really sure if Ron would know. It was difficult for Harry to explain, but he had a feeling that Clara would want to just process this new found and important information before she went on telling everyone.

Ron nodded though, in agreement, "Yeah, we should at least try to sleep. Though I don't s'pose I'll catch a wink."

They both seemed to gather there things as slowly as possible, and it was almost as if they were trying to give more time for Clara to come back, but she didn't. Harry trudged up the spiral staircase with his eyes still fixed on the porthole, but no one crawled through it. He expected that him and Ron would be up for hours while lying still in their beds, but Harry was wrong. The second they collapsed and laid their heads on their feather pillows, they fell right to sleep. I guess when you're anticipating something so much, you don't notice the world around you.

Harry was startled awake by a loud noise downstairs in the common room. He sat up quickly and looked out the window to see that it was still extremely dark. He was only sitting on his bed for a moment before he decided to come downstairs and check it out. After all, maybe it was Clara.

For some reason, Harry was nervous as he cautiouslyopened the door. When he did, Harry knew why. "Voldemort?"

"That's LORD Voldemort, Harry. I would think such a good boy like you would have some manners." Harry still couldn't believe his eyes; usually Voldemort waited until the end of the year with some elaborate plan to kill him, but this time, he was just going to do it, right here in the school.

Harry took a deep breath as he confidently walked down the stairs like he was meeting a friend, not an enemy trying to assassinate him. He answered back coolly, "Good to see you again, Tom." Harry smiled at this while he remembered how Dumbledore addressed Voldemort this way too, "Here again to try and kill me?"

Voldemort's eyes flashed with sudden anger before he calmed himself down. Then he replied with venom, "No Harry, you know the drill; I like to wait until later. I am just here to torment you." Harry was startled by the wicked grin on Voldemort's face and he was perplexed on how he would be "tormented".

Voldemort was studying him while standing in front of the fire. His legs were hidden behind a chair, but from what Harry saw, Voldemort was becoming stronger. Harry never liked to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was scared though, so he answered casually, "How are you going to torment me, LORD Tom Riddle." Harry was surprised at himself, the way these things were coming out of his mouth; he was shocked at the fact that he was actually mocking Voldemort.

Harry couldn't see any anger flashing in his eyes, only a smug smile on his face that made Harry want to cringe. Voldemort said nothing as he stepped aside and kicked something on the floor. Whatever it was moved a little until Harry's jaw dropped at the site, "SIRIUS?"

He started sprinting towards his godfather, in hopes that he was really seeing him, in hopes that maybe he was really still alive. Harry didn't get far however because Voldemort stopped him, while he was still 10-feet away. "I wouldn't do that if I were you Harry."

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"Because then I'll really kill him." Harry looked at Voldemort squarly and without blinking; he had no fear at the moment for his own life, only for Sirius'. Harry was going to say something until Voldemort explained, "I will probably kill him later anyways, not that that is some big secret, but I just thought that I could never pass up a chance to make your life worse than it already is."

Harry was having a very had time thinking at the moment because this was all happening so fast. He didn't knowwhat to do besides stand there. There was nothing he could do, without getting his only family member killed. The only thing he didn't get is why was Voldemort really here. Was he really here just because he wanted to torture Harry, or was it something else? Harry wanted to see if Voldemort was telling the truth, "What if I killed him instead? You know, just push Sirius into the fire."

Voldemort wrinkled his brow and said in a voice that sounded like he was trying to not care, "That would take some of the fun out of it for me, but since he's going to die anyways...that sounds like quite a show." Voldemort stared at Harry menacingly, "Watching the great Harry Potter kill his own beloved godfather. I do believe i am rubbing off on you."

"No," answered Harry firmly, "not at all...since, like you said, he's going to die anyways, I would rather him die as painlessly and quickly as possible and not by an idiot such as yourself."

Harry was smiling triumpantly at Voldemort for a total of two seconds before he saw a change in his opponent's eyes. In a split second he started running towards Sirius, because Voldemort was pissed. Harry had went a tad bit too far and now he was dodging spells left and right while gathering his godfather onto his back. Where he could run, Harry didn't know, but at the moment he was running towards the porthole, but he didn't get far. All of a sudden, it seemed as if his uncle and Voldemort were being sucked into the fire in a swirl of green. Harry was even trying to hold onto Sirius long after he knew that there was no hope. Even so, Harry still tried to follow them into the fire, because just maybe, he could go with them, and save his godfather. He was yelling out of anger and frustration and maybe even pain, as he stood in the fire thrashing for someone that was gone.

"HARRY!"

He was being shaken and pulled away from the fire with a sudden force and for the first time since he had gotten out of bed he felt like his eyes were really open. It was a weird sensation that came over his body, but Harry couldn't pay much attention to anything besides what had just happened.

"Harry look at me," It was Clara's voice that was speaking to him and she looked scared out of her mind once Harry finally made eye contact. She swallowed hard before she said, "You were sleepwalking...and standing in the fire."

"I wasn't sleeping!" Harry said, he knew that it was real, none of his dreams were ever like that.

"Harry, i was on the couch down here sleeping, and I woke up when you were running towards the fire. You were yelling and I couldn't wake you up. I tried to pull you away from the fire, but you wouldn't let me."

Harry closed his eyes again as he started to really understand what happened. He was so embarressed for making a fool of himself over a stupid dream. He was mad at himself for not accepting that Sirius was dead, and having to make up dreams to give him false hopes.

He was putting his hands over his face when Clara added, "I sent Hermoine to go and get the nurse so she could take care of your burns."

"My what?" Harry said as he looked down, but immediately he regretted it. His skin was charred and looked like it was falling off of him. It was wrinkly and Harry was afraid that if he moved, all his skin would come off all together. From what he had learned about fire in the public schools, this was definitely third degree burns. He was disgusted with himself and was glad that he couldn't see his face at that moment because if his face was have as badly burnt as his legs, then he would look like someone had tried to rip his face off. He winced as he finally realized that he still had feeling in his arms, but the feeling wasn't good. He was just now noticing the excrutiating pain in his arms and stomach.

Harry tried to ignore the pain as he cast a look around him and saw that Clara was not the only one there. Practically the entire Gryffindor house was there, staring at him with disbelief. This was the first time he noticed that Ron was sitting next to him too, looking as pale as a ghost.

"Harry...what were you dreaming about that could make you so...desparate?" Clara asked with deep concern. Ron cast her a cautious glance because he knew what Harry was dreaming about, and that's what scared him. Ron knew that sometimes Harry's dreams were real, and this one seemed as real as ever.

"Clara," Harry replied distantly, "it was just false hopes..."