A/N: Now, some of you are not going to be happy with me for some of the things that happen in this chapter.  But, please remember, all actions are serving a purpose.  Also MAJOR GORE ALERT, lots of yuckiness later on, so if you're squeamish don't read it.

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters, but I wish I did.

Chapter 31: The Dream Road

            Lucius regarded Herman Tremble, the editor in chief of the Daily Prophet with a cool, amused expression.  The portly man was sweating profusely, dabbing at his forehead with an already sopping handkerchief, while Lucius sat calmly, perfectly composed in a tacky, brown chair across from him.

            "You – you must realize, of course, that we of the Daily Prophet only report –,"

            "Must?" Lucius purred, arching an elegantly shaped eyebrow. "No one says must to a Malfoy, Tremble." He shifted slowly in his seat, crossing his legs unhurriedly, enjoying the look of pure terror on the fat man's face.

            Herman blanched and smiled wanly at the blond even as his hands twisted his handkerchief into knots.  "Forgive me, Mr. Malfoy." Lucius sneered at him, flicking his fingers at the trembling man, urging him on.  "You see, Ms. Skeeter is our most valued reporter –,"

            "Who publishes nothing but rubbish or outright lies." Lucius now leaned forward, pinning the other man with his stare.  "I now have controlling interest of this newspaper Tremble.  I expect that woman to be gone from the offices by tomorrow.  As for the inflammatory and speculative articles regarding Mr. Potter, Slytherin House and their particular allegiances, I also expect them to be silenced immediately, are we understood?" Lucius barred his teeth at the editor, daring the man to challenge him. "Do try and actually report the truth, Mr. Tremble.  It would be such a shame to have to replace you – and every single one of the reporters on your staff." Lucius sniffed and flicked a stray piece of hair back over his shoulders, watching the editor with narrowed eyes.

            Herman paled and swallowed heavily, his shoulders slumping.  "Of – of course Mr. Malfoy. The articles will be stopped immediately." He took a deep breath and forged on, "But surely Ms. Skeeter could –,"

            "Absolutely not." Herman silenced immediately and began nodding rapidly, clutching the edge of his desk.  "She is to be gone by tomorrow, so help you Merlin.  Understood?"
            "Yes sir," Herman whispered, grimacing, a droplet of sweat inching down his cheek.

            "Good." Lucius rose smoothly from his seat, looking down his long, aristocratic nose at the portly man.  "I will also expect an early edition of the paper to be delivered to me before it hits the stands – are we also clear on that?"
            "Yes sir." The words were barely audible.

            "Excellent." Lucius glared at him once more before drawing himself up to his full height.  "I will expect to hear from you tomorrow.  Do be prompt, Mr. Tremble.  I hate to be kept waiting – or to be disappointed." He swept from the room, the fine material of his robes swishing behind him.  He couldn't get out of the offices fast enough – how pathetically middle class, he sneered at the beige and tan carpeting that ran through the main offices of the Daily Prophet.  Not an ounce of class anywhere.

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            Lucius relaxed considerably as he entered The Club, one of the oldest gentlemen's social clubs in wizarding Briton – of which the Malfoys had been members of since its conception.  The manager met him at the door and personally took his cloak, escorting him to a private room.

            Lucius sighed as he gratefully sank into one of the plush chairs, a glass of port appearing next to him from a silent server.  He took a sip, rolling the liquid around his mouth, washing out the bitter taste of the Daily Prophet from his pores.

            "Port at ten in the morning? Surely it wasn't that bad."

            A slow smile spread across Lucius' face as he glanced towards the door.  Severus smiled back at him, for once out of his drab smock and in a finely cut dress robe.  Delectable, Lucius raked the man over with his eyes, seeing the echoes of the boy Severus used to be; before that bloody Dumbledore and that bastard of a Dark Lord tore everything apart.  He flicked the regrets away easily – he had Severus now, and that was all that mattered.

            "Severus." The Potions Master glided into the room, taking a seat next to the blond.  "I thought you had classes today?"

            The other man shrugged silently and looked away.  They were in one of the smaller private rooms, done in deep blues and grays.  A fire popped merrily in front of them, cutting the chill of the foggy day.  "The Headmaster decided to give the students a day to 're-orientate' themselves; as well as attend a memorial for the students that will not be returning." He brushed at a piece of lint on the arm of his chair before settling hands once more into his lap.

            Lucius made a face and took another sip of his port.  "A most generous man."

            "Hardly." Severus' harsh tone made the blond look over at him.  Severus sighed and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands briefly.  "He's making Ha-Potter take the potion again at the end of the week."

            "What?" Port sloshed as Lucius jerked the glass away from his mouth and stared at the dark haired man next to him.  "So soon? Is he insane?"

            "Desperate." Severus scrubbed his face briefly before leaning back, grabbing Lucius' glass of port and taking a healthy swig.  "The attacks over the winter break have forced Albus' hand.  He has no other recourse." He sneered and tossed back the rest of the alcohol, making a small face at the burn.

            Lucius grimaced and brought up a hand to rub at his temples. "Is there no other way?" Severus said nothing. "Damn it all." A waiter appeared in the doorway and the blond ordered a bottle of double malt scotch for them both.

            "How did the meeting with the Daily Prophet go?" Severus poured himself a drink, studying the amber liquid as he raised the glass to the light of the fire.

            "I've made it clear that that Skeeter woman is to be gone by tomorrow and that I have to approve all editions of the paper before it goes to the stands.  Tremble was less than amused."
            "I can imagine.  It is at least one less thing we have to worry over, however."

            Lucius sighed. "True.  But that blasted woman," he tossed back his scotch smoothly.  "I fear that where there's a will, there's a way with that one.  We have silenced the Daily Prophet – but what of the other, independent presses?"

            Severus made a curt motion.  "Small presses, small circulation." He turned the finely cut tumbler in his hands, his fingers mapping the angles and ridges silently.

            "Yes, true." Lucius poured another drink.  He took a sip of it, rolling his head from side to side in an attempt to relieve some tension.  He glanced over to Severus, who still had yet to finish his own drink.  A glint entered his eye as he pulled out his wand.  He knew the perfect way to get rid of the tension that was riding high on his shoulders – one that he knew Severus would have no objections to. 

            A simple spell had the door closed and locked, with the Potions Master raising one elegant eyebrow at him.  "Now," Lucius got up and took Severus' drink from his lax grip.  "It is only ten o'clock in the morning," he placed both of their glasses on the small side table.  Severus' throaty laugh was his only response.

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            A sound made Hermione look up from her book.  She scanned the sparsely populated Common Room, a frown creasing her forehead.  Most of the students had gone to a candlelight vigil near the lake for the three students who had died…Hermione had chosen not to go, but to stay indoors and study.  Movement out of the corner of her eye had her whipping her head around – just in time to see Lavender slip through the Portrait hole.  What in the…Hermione bit her lip, fidgeting with the pages of her book before springing into action.

            Her breath came in short gasps as she hustled after the distant figure.  Where in the world is she going? This isn't the way to the lake… A sudden halt to Lavender's progress had Hermione plastering herself to the wall, praying that the other girl wouldn't see her. Please…a long, breathless moment later Lavender continued onward, slower now, cautious.  Hermione crept along behind her, staying as silent as possible.  She kept to the wall, hoping her drab clothes would blend in with the tapestries and the stone.

            "Who's there?" Lavender stopped again and stood in the middle of the hall, her hands on her hips.  "Who's there?" Hermione pressed herself into the wall, sliding down the cold stone to hide behind a suit of armor.  She clamped a hand across her mouth and nose as Lavender's footsteps became louder. 

            "Damn it." Lavender's face was set in an angry scowl.  She was barely eight feet away from Hermione – the bushy haired girl peered at her through the gaps in the suit of armor, praying that the gossip wouldn't look her way.  "Tempus." Lavender peered at the numbers in the air and paled, one hand coming up to her throat.  "I'm late," she whispered, horrified. "He's gonna kill me!" She whirled and ran, her robes flying behind her, no attempt of caution or secrecy made now.

            Hermione let out a gusting breath, panting slightly as her legs flopped out in front of her.  This is so much harder without an Invisibility Cloak.  She considered trying to go after Lavender, but decided against it.  If Lavender had any talent besides spreading rumors, it was certainly sprinting.  That was close.  She frowned and rested her head against the cool stone behind her.  Who's going to kill her?  Why would this 'he' want to kill her? Is 'he' Ron? Who else could it be?  She bit her lip, tears sparkling in her eyes.  See Hermione, he was just a big liar all along.  She sniffed and scrubbed an arm across her eyes. 

            She clambered to her feet, peering in the direction Lavender had disappeared before turning around and retracing her steps.  But if it isn't Ron, she paused, finally at the portrait hole door, if it isn't Ron…then who is it? The thought chilled her, causing her to shiver briefly.  She slipped back into the Common Room, which was now completely deserted.  She took up her textbook again, but couldn't concentrate.  Her gaze kept returning to the Portrait hole, again and again.

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            Ginny took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose.  She eyed the entrance of the Slytherin dorms warily, gripping Jaredth tightly in her left hand.  The handle was warm and dry, a sharp contrast to her clammy, sweaty hands.  I can do this, she gulped and ran a nervous hand down her finest dress robes.  I can.

            "Ready Ginny?" Pansy and Neville appeared at her side, nearly making her jump a mile.

            "Yeah. I think so." She flicked her hair over her shoulder, still unused to its new length.

            Pansy smiled and gave her a quick hug.  "Alright, lets go shock some people."

            "Hey!" They stopped mid-stride, turning back to face Draco and Harry, who were hurrying to catch up to them.  Like Ginny, they both had their best dress robes on – although Harry looked distinctly more uncomfortable in them than Draco.

            Pansy's smile turned wicked. "Aren't we a sight?" Millicent strolled up to them and gave the group a once over.  They were all a pristine image of the new generation of wealth and power.  Millicent smirked and shook her head slightly.

            "I'll say," the plump girl plucked at her robes, settling them straight, making a face at a small crease near the hem.

            Ginny beamed at her as Harry came up to the auburn haired girl's side.  His hair was, for once, staying relatively flat and presentable.  She stared.  He nudged her.  She nudged him back.

            "Alright." Draco's voice was full of laughter.  They waited another moment for Blaise and Sasha to join them.  "Now we can go." Pansy rolled her eyes at him, and he stuck his tongue out at her – which she tried to catch, giggling.  They all were laughing as they exited the dorms, with Ginny and Harry at the lead.

            Silence spread out in front of them as they headed for the Great Hall.  It was the first day of classes, and people were swarming towards the Hall for breakfast.  People paused in their conversations, watching the pack of Slytherins pass with wide eyes, their mouths hanging open in shock.  Ginny had to bite back several smirks – until she caught sight of Harry grinning like a Cheshire cat out of the corner of her eye.  After that she smirked openly, strutting to the best of her ability with her knee.

            The Great Hall went silent as they entered; people turned to stare at them, abandoning their breakfasts in order to gape.  Professor McGonagall goggled at Ginny, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.  The Headmaster smiled brilliantly at them, while Professor Snape merely smirked and sat back in his seat, drinking his tea happily.

            A strangled gasp arose from the Gryffindor table.  The Slytherins paused in the doorway, posing for all to see. "What the –," Ron struggled to his feet, his face a sight.

            Dumbledore rose at the Head Table, getting the attention of the students.  "Ladies and gentlemen.  Although we have lost three beloved students over the winter holidays, it gives me great joy to present to you all an old student made new.  May I present Ms. Virginia Black, formally Ginny Nobody.  Welcome back, Ms. Black."

            Ginny beamed at the Headmaster and gave him a small curtsy before turning sharply, her dress robes swirling and heading towards the Slytherin table.

            "You – you – a Black?" Ron's outraged yelp made Ginny grin and giggles arise from students all around the Hall.  She looked over at the Gryffindor table in time to see Ron wrestled back into his seat by Lee and George.  She caught Seamus' eye; he winked at her subtly and gave her a tiny, supporting grin and an almost invisible thumbs up – which she had to have Harry explain to her, and then to the rest of the Slytherins sitting around them.

            Breakfast was a mostly quiet affair, with most everyone whispering to each other as they looked at the Slytherin table.  Ginny preened under the scrutiny.  Most satisfactory, she laughed at something Harry said, tucking her hair back behind her ears, displaying her new jewelry.  Most definitely.

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            "Who the hell do you think you are?"

            Ginny paused in her conversation with Maddie, another fourth year Slytherin girl.  There were in the Library, studying for charms.  Ginny turned slowly, arching an eyebrow at Ron.

            "Virginia Black, of course.  Or did the Headmaster use too many large words for you Weasley?" Maddie snickered openly at the redhead and the Gryffindors surrounding him.  Ginny winked at her, catching sight of Madam Pince coming up behind the boys.

            Ron's face twisted.  "There is no way Sirius would ever invite a whore like you into his –,"

            "Mr. Weasley!" Madam Pince's shocked gasp made Ron snap his mouth closed and flush to his ears.  The Librarian appeared at Ginny's elbow, the auburn haired girl putting on a shocked and hurt expression for the woman.  "How dare you use such language in my library, young man, and to such a fine young lady as Ms. Black herself.  Ten points from Gryffindor and I'll be talking to your Head of House, make sure of that!  Now get out!" Ron sneered at the austere woman, but turned sharply without another word and stalked away, his followers tramping out with him.

            Madam Pince watched him go with her arms folded across her chest, her feather duster poking straight up and her eyes narrowed into slits.  Once they were gone she looked down at Ginny and winked – much to the girls surprise.

            "Slytherin pride," the Librarian whispered to the gaping girls before bustling off, her feather duster flying as she admonished a cowering Hufflepuff second year. 

            Ginny and Maddie exchanged wide-eyed glances.  "Did you just hear that?"

            Maddie nodded, opening and closing her mouth a few times.  "Yeah," she breathed.  "No one is going to believe us!" The looked at each other for a moment and then began to giggle quietly, stifling their laughter with their hands.

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            A few days later found them all in the Library again.  Sasha and Seamus sat close together on one side of the table – the lone Gryffindor still sneaking glances at the affectionate way Draco and Harry were sitting together.  Blaise and Neville were pouring over a book of myths, but were honestly more concerned about how nice it felt to be in the other's presence than what the book was teaching them.

            Ginny glanced around the group, idly drumming her fingers on the tabletop. They were waiting for Pansy and Millicent to show up with the daily report from the rest of the House before they could begin.  She bit her lip and eased her injured leg out in front of her; the knee had been stiff all day, and had been causing her no little pain.  Of course, if I didn't have to climb to many bloody stairs each day, she grinned a little and shook her head.  She found it hard to be a bad mood for some odd reason – the day just seemed too bright. 

            A movement near the stacks made them all tense; Professor Snape emerged from the darkness, a droll expression on his face as he took them all in – hesitating a moment when he saw Seamus.  He raised an eyebrow at Sasha, but said nothing.  "Children," he inclined his head briefly.  His gaze turned to Harry.  "Mr. Potter.  A word."

            Harry and Draco exchanged a long look – but Harry rose silently and followed the Potions Master.  They walked a ways down the stacks to another small alcove.

            "Professor?" Harry shifted uneasily, stuffing his hands into his pockets.  Severus moved to the window, looking out over the grounds for a long moment, his back turned to the boy.

            "Mr. Potter.  It – is my unfortunate duty to tell you that the Headmaster has requested that you take the vision potion again."

            Harry felt his mouth suddenly go dry.  "Oh." He drew in a deep breath, a chill working its way down his spine.  "Did he say when?"

            "Tomorrow evening."

            Harry blinked rapidly, his heart pounding in his throat.  Again? He closed his eyes and tried to breath slowly.  I knew I had to take it again – but so soon?  I mean, I did ask to help – and I agreed to do this for the Headmaster…it's just…sometimes…Harry bit his lip and mentally kicked himself.  Don't be such a baby.  You asked for it, now you have to live with it.  He winced at the mental voice – it reminded him a little too much of his uncle.

            "Mr. Potter?"

            Harry snapped his head up to see that Severus had turned from the window and was now looking at him worriedly – or at least as concerned as he'd ever seen the professor.  He smiled wanly at the man.  "I'm fine." He gulped and took a deep breath. 

            Severus eyed him for a moment, cocking his head to one side as he studied the boy in front of him.  "You – you do know that you can refuse the Headmaster at any time, Harry."

            It's almost like he wants me to say no, Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek.  "I – I know sir.  I want to help.  I'm the only one who can now." He shrugged philosophically.  "It's my responsibility."

            Severus frowned and took a step towards Harry.  "Mr. Potter – if you are sure…"

            Harry nodded affirmatively. 

            Severus sighed and hid his hands inside of his robes.  "Very well.  You are to come to the back of the Hospital Wing after supper tomorrow."

            Harry nodded again, eyeing the Professor worriedly.  "Very well, Mr. Potter. We can return to your companions now." He gestured for Harry to go in front of him, trailing behind the younger boy, like some big, evil bat.  Harry had to bite back a smile – which faded as soon as it appeared.  Severus bid the rest of the students – including Seamus, which shocked the Gryffindor to no end – a pleasant goodnight before sweeping off towards the exit.

            Draco stood as soon as Harry entered the alcove. He moved up to Harry's side, reaching out to touch the dark haired boy's arm gently.  "Are you alright?" The blond kept his voice low.

            "Yeah. I –," he looked up at Draco, his eyes a little wide.  "I have to take the potion again." Harry was suddenly aware that Pansy and Millicent had arrived while he and Professor Snape had been talking – and that everyone was eavesdropping on his conversation with Draco.

            "You're bloody well not!" Ginny slapped her hand on the tabletop, ignoring the small flare of pain. 

            Harry looked at her sadly.  "I have to Gin," Draco's hand tightened on his arm.  He looked up into the stormy gray eyes.  "I'm sorry, Draco.  But I have to.  There's no other choice left."

            Draco's mouth drew down into a tight line.  He cast a glance over his shoulder at the group.  "Right.  Harry and I need to go – talk.  Fill us in when we get back." Harry gaped at Draco, and there were no few snickers as the blond bodily pulled Harry away from the group and deeper into the unused section of the Library.

            "Draco! Wha-umph!" Harry was bodily lifted off of the ground and sat on one of the tables.  He slowly wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, not really sure why the blond was acting this way.

            Draco pulled away slightly, his face unreadable.  He raised one hand and traced Harry's cheek, brushing his hair back and cupping his face.  "You – you – bloody brave fool." The blond searched his gaze, the gray eyes a touch wild.  "Why do you go –," he broke off and pulled Harry close, burying one hand into the wild, dark hair.

            Harry slowly wrapped his arms around the other boy as well, a gambit of emotions flooding through him.  "Why do I what?" He had to clear his throat a few times in order to speak.

            The blond said nothing, merely holding him tighter.  Draco closed his eyes tightly, Harry's small frame fitting so well into his.  Why do you go where I cannot follow? He rubbed his chin on Harry's shoulder, subtly inhaling his scent.  While Draco understood the whys of Harry taking the potion, it didn't mean he had to like it.  Ever time you go there…you chance not coming back.  He traced patterns on the smooth back.  You had better come back Harry Potter.  Or I'll go in after you, so help me Merlin.

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            Harry eased into the small back room of the hospital wing, wiping off his sweaty palms on his robes, knowing his hair was a mess, but unable to do anything about it. It had taken no little persuasion on Harry's part to keep Draco away – but he had let the blond escort him to the door.  And then Ginny's part comes in.  The auburn haired witch had – reluctantly – agreed to be Draco's sitter until Harry came back to the dorms.  She and the rest of the girls were plotting various ways to keep him busy – most of which Harry had no wish of knowing. 

            Severus stood nearest to the door, his dark eyes shuttered, his shoulders tense.  Madam Pomfrey bustled about the room, plumping up the pillows and setting out various things.  The Headmaster had yet to arrive.  The dark haired boy met Severus' gaze briefly before swallowing heavily and taking a seat on the bed.

            He took a deep a breath and let it out through his nose slowly.  Calm, I must be calm.  I've done this before, I can do it again. He buried his hands into his robes, knowing that they were trembling and not wanting the others to see.  I have to do this – they need my help.  Remember that you chose to do this Harry, it's your responsibility now.  He mentally pushed the rising fear and anxiety aside, focusing on calming his thoughts.  Unbidden, the memory of Draco's grandmother's garden popped into his mind and he held onto that image tightly.

            "Harry?" His head snapped up at the sound of Sirius' voice.  The tall animagus slipped into the room, ignoring Severus' glare. "Hey kiddo."

            Harry smiled at the older wizard, surprised.  "Sirius! I didn't know you were coming."

            "Neither did I." Severus moved in front of the animagus. "Black, it would be best if you were not here."

            Sirius pulled himself up, glaring at the Potions Master.  "Stuff it, Snape.  Harry's my godson and I won't have him going through this alone." He moved to push past Severus, but the Potions Master grabbed his arm.

            "He won't be alone, you dolt.  Neither Albus, Poppy nor I need your added presence during this either."

            Sirius shook off the grip angrily.  "You have no right keeping me out of this.  Harry needs me –,"

            "What he needs is someone who won't panic, Black.  This procedure is difficult for him at best.  I don't think –,"

            "I don't care what you think." Sirius and Severus stood nose-to-nose, tension radiating off both of them.  "Harry can decide whether I go or stay." They both looked over to the now standing teen, who was nervously looking from one man to the other.  "Harry?" Sirius' eyes were pleading.

            Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times – torn.  He wanted Sirius to stay, he did – but I don't want to put him through this.  He lowered his head.  "I – Sirius – what – what's going to happen isn't pretty.  You've seen some of it…but those are like echoes…The real thing is…is…it's painful, and I –," he blinked a few times, falling silent, unsure.  He shifted again and bit his lower lip nervously.

            "You what?" The animagus moved around Snape and kneeled in front of Harry, tilting his chin up to meet Sirius' gaze.

            "I don't want you to see me like – that." Screaming.  In pain.  With you unable to help.  He swallowed back the words, knowing they were true, but unable to voice them.  Sirius searched his face.

            "Harry," he took the boy's shoulders gently.  "Harry, it won't change how I think of you by seeing you take the potion.  I want to help you.  I want to be here for you." The animagus' voice was deep and it washed over Harry, who relished the sound even as it brought a lump to his throat.

            "But you can't help me with this Sirius," Harry whispered, his eyes blurring slightly.  The animagus' face fell.

            "But –,"

            "I know you want to help me, Sirius – and that means more to me than you could ever imagine.  But you – you're already seen so many horrible things and this, this is –,"

            "Nonsense.  I'm staying Harry." Sirius tightened his hold slightly, a panicked look entering his eyes.  "And I will help you with this kiddo.  You don't need to carry this all on your own."

            "Black," Severus took a step towards them, reaching out to touch Harry's shoulder.  Sirius shot to his feet, hiding Harry behind him, barring his teeth at the lanky man.  "Black," the Potions Master said tiredly, "if – mind you if – you can keep yourself under control, then fine.  Stay and help us." Severus looked past the animagus and caught Harry's eye.  The younger wizard thought he saw sorrow there for a moment, but it was gone too fast for him to really be sure.  "If, however, you are unable to remain calm – which I suspect will be the case – then you will be thrown from the room and never allowed to participate again.  Understood?"

            Sirius sneered at the other man, but nodded grudgingly.  "Alright.  Agreed.  Is that all right with you, Harry?" He turned to his godson.

            Harry looked up at him briefly before quickly looking away, focusing on the bed he was about to be strapped to.  "Alright," he murmured, his shoulders slumping slightly.  "Alright."

            "Well, now that that's settled," they all jumped at the sound of the Headmaster's voice.  Albus and Poppy stood framed in the doorway, eyeing the two older wizards, her with suspicion, Albus with a minor twinkle in his eye that swiftly faded as he turned his gaze to Harry.  "We must get to work."

            Harry nodded and moved back to the bed, laying down on it, trying to get comfortable.  Sirius moved away slowly as Severus, Poppy and Albus moved briskly about the room, setting out various potions and other odds and ends.

            "Here," Harry leaned up on his elbow and took the vial from the Potions Master.  The lanky man took a seat next to Harry, his mouth set in a thin line. "Take one mouthful – it will be enough for a quarter hour."

            "Do you think fifteen minutes is enough time, Severus?" Albus stood at the end of the bed, his hands folded into his sleeves.  Harry looked up at the old wizard, catching his eye briefly.  Harry's gut twisted looking into the unreadable blue eyes.  He knew what the Headmaster meant…but Snape and Sirius…he looked back down at the vial, contemplating it.

            Severus' shoulders tensed and he twisted around to face the older wizard, his eyes narrowing.  Sirius also turned to the Headmaster, crossing his arms over his chest nervously, biting his lower lip. "Albus, we've only tested –,"

            "Harry!" Poppy's shocked gasp made them all look back at the boy who had tossed back the entire vial while they hadn't been looking.

            "Potter you idiot." Severus pried the vial from the boy, the small amount left spilling everywhere, turning the white sheets deep red.

            "Don't talk about Harry that –," Sirius was quivering with rage.

            "The boy just drank the entire vial Black you fool! That's upwards of an hour or more!  An hour!" Severus turned to the animagus, snarling.  Sirius withdrew slightly, his eyes wide.

            Harry began to shake immediately after swallowing the potion, his eyes rolling back into his head and his breath now coming in pants.  Severus and Poppy worked quickly to secure him to the bed, his body already beginning to twitch and jerk.  "I hope you're happy Albus," Severus spat, smoothing back Harry's bangs, looking at the now dark red scar.  Poppy withdrew from the bedside, her eyes worried and her hands buried underneath her apron, her gaze not leaving the small form on the bed.

            "We do what we must,"

            Sirius' mouth dropped open slightly and he turned to stare at the Headmaster in shock. "You did that on purpose?"

            Albus looked at him briefly before turning his attention back to Harry.  "We all do what we must." He folded his hands into his sleeves, his attention now solely focused on the small boy on the too large bed.

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            I am an idiot.  Harry was fairly sure that what he'd done ranked pretty high up there on the stupid scale.  He got to his feet on the mental road, wiping his hands off on his robes.  "No use in weeping about it now," he sighed and started down the road – it was clearer now than he'd ever seen it before.  Everything was sharper, clearer; he could almost taste the darkness around him, and feel the vibrations of his heartbeat in the road he was traveling on. 

            The time it took to get to the fortress that was Voldemort's mind seemed infinitely shorter; it rose quickly out of the darkness, the crack that was his entrance blazing to his inner sight.  He quickly stepped inside.

            "Erin?" Voldemort was in his torture chamber again.  Harry turned his eyes away from the horrific scenes and concentrated on finding Erin.  "Erin?"

            "Harry!" She appeared in front of him suddenly, panicked.  "What are you doing here?  It's too dangerous!" Her form was hazy and her dress was torn and dirty.  She shuddered visibly, wringing her hands together.

            "Erin, what's happened?" Harry reached for her, a horrible feeling crawling up his spine, but she backed away, shaking her head violently.

            "Don't touch me, Harry.  Please don't touch me." Tears glittered on her face as she looked at him.  "Oh, you shouldn't have come!"
            He reached for her again and this time she let him approach, her eyes wide and scared.  "What's going on?  What's happened?" He folded her into a gentle hug, patting her as though she was about to break.

            "It's the Cwn Annwn.  He –," she shuddered and clutched at the front of Harry's robes.  "He used my family's knowledge and memories to pick away at the Book!  He's close – so close –,"

            "Cwn Annwn heed my call!" Voldemort's sibilant voice washed past them, making Harry clutch Erin to him and close his eyes.  He forced them open after a moment, remembering that he had to see – he had to know.

            Voldemort was naked, standing in the middle of his chambers with a cage in front of him.  Inside were the Cwn Annwn – they had misty white hides and blood red ears and burning yellow eyes.  They had foam running from their mouths as they panted in their cage, their sides heaving as their eyes rolled.

            "No. Oh please no," Erin whimpered, her dress slowly fading away and her whole, healthy appearance slipping back into the twisted, mangled form Harry had first seen.  He forced himself to keep a hold of her and not flinch away from what had been done to her.

            "Shh, Erin.  I'm here.  I'm not going to leave you."
            "You should.  You have to get away!" She struggled in his grasp, but he gently held onto her.

            "I won't leave you to face him alone." She slowly stopped struggling, subsiding into terrified silence.  Harry followed her gaze and froze as well, his hands clutching at Erin as his face drained of color.

            "Cwn Annwn!" Harry forced himself to take stock of the room.  Dead bodies littered the floor – blood, shit and entrails covered every inch of stone.  Strange symbols were painted on the walls – Harry recognized none of them, but forced himself to memorize them as best he could.  Three masked Death Eaters stood near the cage, while Ezekiel was crouched next to his master, his hands occasionally dropping down to play in the puddles of blood at their feet.  He spread the still warm liquid over his knuckles, tracing the lines of his palms delicately, only to lick them clean and start all over again. 

            Voldemort reached down and gently caressed his torture's head – the kneeling man looked up at the touch, his eyes adoring and his lips stained red.

            "Do you see, my loyal followers? Do you see?" Voldemort moved forward slowly, letting his hand drop from Ezekiel's head.  He stepped over the torn bodies as though they didn't exist, wiggling his toes in the remains as he passed.  He stopped bare inches away from the cage, staring down at the quivering dogs with a growing smile.

            "I am their Master now." Voldemort reached out and touched the spelled metal of the bars, causing the hellhounds to flinch violently and cower away from him, growls spilling from their throats.

            "Up!" He roared and the dogs howled, but sprang to their feet, spittle flying from their muzzles to splatter and sizzle on the ground.  "Bow at my feet!  Obey my will! I am your Master – I am your new Lord!" The dogs slunk forward and lowered themselves in front of him, rolling over and showing their bellies to him, even as they growled and snapped their razor sharp teeth at him.  "Good, good my pets."

            Voldemort lifted the latch of the cage – the door swinging open with a screech.  The hellhounds rolled to their feet, but stayed crouching, staring up at the Dark Lord with almost palpable hate and fear.

            "It is time to test my beautiful new pets," Voldemort took a step backwards and gestured at one of the Death Eaters.  He disappeared through the door, only to return seconds later with two muggles.

            They were a man and a woman in their late thirties, bruised and dirty from head to foot.  The woman was screaming and struggling in the Death Eater's grip; the man stumbled into the room numbly, his eyes wide and blank.

            "Cwn Annwn!" The dogs flinched and whined.  Voldemort threw down two scraps of clothing to them, supplied by Ezekiel.  The hellhounds shuffled forward, their noses exploring the scraps. "Here are your targets.  Kill them, my pets.  Make it slow, and painful." Voldemort gestured to one of the walls of the chamber and with a murmured spell, the wall faded away, revealing a dark field.  "Let them go," he ordered the Death Eaters. 

            The woman wasted no time making for the open field, stumbling in her rush for freedom.  The man only stood silently, swaying until one of the Death Eaters pushed him towards the opening, sending a curse to help him on his way.

            Voldemort waited until the couple had made it to the middle of the field, the woman now helping the man along, before looking back down at the dogs, who were now crouched, ready to pounce.  "Go, my pets.  The hunt is on."

            With erupting howls the dogs tore off after the fleeing couple, easily over taking them.  The man went down first – one of the Cwn Annwn launched itself at him, sinking sharp canines into his flank, ripping away a large hunk of flesh.  The other hamstringed the woman, who tried to beat off the animal, but failed.  Blood, bits of bone and flesh exploded from the two victims, their screams lasting only for a few minutes before fading away into silence.  Soon, the only sounds from the field were the heavy ripping of flesh, the crunch of bone and the Cwn Annwn's chilling growls.

            "Good my beauties.  Good," Voldemort had a hand tangled in Ezekiel's hair as the torturer busied himself with his Lord. "Feast well on their flesh.  Crack their bones and savor the marrow.  Soon – ah!" He threw his head back and laughed. "Soon you'll be tasting the sweet flesh of children, and the meat of one Harry Potter." He ripped Ezekiel away from his task, rounding on one of the Death Eaters nearest the door.

            "Crabbe! Gather the faithful.  We have much to do.  I wish to strike the day before Beltane – make sure all is ready." The Death Eater bowed and slipped out of the door.  Voldemort turned his gaze back to the Cwn Annwn, reaching for Ezekiel again.  "Come, Ezekiel.  Let us see the pain my new pets have wrought." Ezekiel wiped his mouth with a bloody sleeve, painting the lower half of his face dark red.  Anticipation gleamed in his eyes as he scurried after his Lord, his hands trembling with excitement.

            Harry came back to himself to find that he'd fallen to the ground, Erin's lax form still cradled in his arms. "Oh my God." He shook violently. "Oh my God."

            "He cannot help you here." Erin stirred, her form now blurry as she pulled away from him.  He let her go, his body numb.  She huddled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and burying her face in her skirts.

            "How can we stop him now?" Harry whimpered, bile rising in his throat as he stared at his hands, which were trembling.

            Erin sniffed and raised her head, her face wet with tears.  "I don't know.  Maybe if the Lord of the Dead was awake – maybe if any of the forgotten gods were awake –," she shook her head as a sob escaped her.

            "W – who?" He distantly remembered Sasha saying something about gods when she had talked in the meeting the day before – but he had had other things on his mind, and had missed most of what she had said.

            "The forgotten gods – those who used to be worshipped before the One God's followers came and converted the people.  There were a multitude of them – a god or goddess for all aspects of life.  They once intermingled with the people – answered the needs of their followers and sometimes granted their prayers.  But when the One God came to the land – the people were converted and the gods were no longer worshipped.  Their power base was taken from them, and one by one, they fell into darkness, forgotten, except in myths." Erin clutched at her skirts, shivering, her eyes a strange mix of lavender and blue.  "They no longer had the power to answer prayers, or do much of anything.  So they went to sleep – to wait until they were needed once again."

            "Like King A-Arthur?" Harry sniffed and wiped at his face, concentrating on Erin and the information she was giving him.  I must remember this.  I have to.

            She nodded.  "Sort of.  They cannot die, so they wait until their time comes again."

            "When will that be?"
            "I don't know."
            Harry covered his face with his hands, sliding them into his hair and tugging.  "Erin –," his voice broke and fresh tears glittered on his eyelashes.  She looked up at him, her eyes now dark and pained.  "I – he – how…" he began to shake harder.  "I'm scared, Erin.  Before, he was like a bumbling bully, who never had a very good plan to begin with.  But now," he hiccupped.  "Now h-he's got these hell hounds and – and that Ezekiel and – and…"

            Erin reached out slightly towards him – her expression anguished.  "I know, Harry.  I know." He took her hand and let her draw him to her, their arms going around each other.

            "I'll keep my promise, Erin." He murmured into her hair.  She heaved a shuddering sigh and buried her face further into his arms.

            "I know.  I know."

qpqp

            They stayed in that position until their tears dried and the trembling stopped.  Harry pulled away reluctantly, his eyes skittering around the images and sounds floating past him, not wanting to look too closely at what he was seeing.  Erin sat up as well, her appearance will somewhat faded, but back to its healthy and whole state.

            Harry got to his feet, burying his hands in his robes, turning in a tight circle.  "Erin…Voldemort said he wanted to strike before Beltane.  Do you know when that is?"

            She got to her feet as well, shaking her skirts to get them straight.  She wiped her face with her hands and frowned.  "The first of May."

            Harry nodded slowly, biting his lower lip.  "So he will strike before May." He looked around carefully, his brow furrowing.  "Do you –," he looked down at Erin.  "Do you know how to – to access his brain? His memory?"

            Erin sighed and cocked her head to one side.  "I don't know.  Most of the time I'm not in control of his thoughts…I just try and stay away…to make him fight to use the Clan's powers." She shrugged.  "I've never actually tried to…meddle…with anything in here." She grimaced as a slice of memory floated past them, the muted screams making them both shiver. 

            Harry scratched the side of his head and looked around again.  Voldemort's mind – where they were at least – was like a large, empty antechamber.  Visions, memories and sounds passed by them…sometimes what Voldemort was doing…sometimes of things he had already done.  But nothing of what he was about to do.  Harry took a few cautious steps forward, Erin trailing along behind him.  He reached the side of the 'room' they were in and looked at the walls.  The color changed constantly, but what caused Harry's stomach to turn over was the strange, spongy texture they seemed to be. 

            He reached out to touch the walls, his hand seeming to move in slow motion.  He could hear Erin's rapidly beating heart, and his own harsh panting was loud in his ears.  His fingers hovered over the surface – he steeled himself and closed his eyes, scrunching his face up as he grabbed all that was left of his courage and touched the wall.

            "Oh gross." It was sticky.  And soft.  His hand seemed to almost merge into the wall, the tacky substance flowing over his skin, crawling over him as though it was alive.  "This is bloody foul." He could hear Erin giggle and snort behind him.  He turned and looked at her over his shoulder.  She looked at him, a sympathetic smile on her face.  "Don't touch it if you have to." She wrinkled her nose at him.

            He turned back to the wall and studied his hand.  He moved his fingers in it hesitantly – then gasped as sensations and memories slammed into his head.

            "Harry!"

            "Oh – god.  Egypt.  It's dark, and cold.  But it shouldn't be cold.  And there's a fire.  And men…they're covered in blood…he's – he's young…he's dropped the ceremonial dagger and they're laughing at him.  He's so mad…" Harry's eyes were wide and his body convulsed on the ground.  "Oh.  God.  He slit their throats while they were asleep.  He took the scrolls.  Egypt.  In the desert.  He called the winds…there's a tomb…and covered it over.  Ah, ah, AH!" Harry's back arched; he thrashed and shuddered on the ground.  Erin sat next to him, holding onto one of his arms, her face pinched and pale as she helplessly watched him convulse. 

            Harry calmed slightly, panting, sweat pouring off of him.  He blinked up at Erin, his eyes hazy.  "The walls," he murmured, his right hand still trapped.  "The walls are memory." He moved his hand again, then threw his head back and screamed.

            "India! The snakes! Oh god, no not the child…the altar of Kali!  In Calcutta.  He bathed the altar in the oldest temple with the blood of Brahmin children…the statue…the statue moved!" He thrashed on the ground…blood trickling from his nose, streaking down the side of his face. 

            Erin shook her head frantically, shaking.  She grabbed at his right arm, braced herself and pulled.  His arm jerked in her grasp – the walls now had a secure hold on his flesh, and were now trying to pull him in.

            "No, oh no," she whimpered, casting around frantically for something, anything.

            Harry began to mutter again, shaking uncontrollably now.  "China.  Pakistan.  Bali.  Peru.  I see…I see…older and older…his soul getting thinner and thinner…there's nothing…nothing left…" Blood was now leaking from both nostrils, dripping down his skin to his neck, making strange patterns where it hit the sweat.  He frowned, "…It's Peter." He shivered, sense coming into his eyes for a moment.  He rolled his head over and looked at Erin and to where his arm was disappearing into the wall.  "No," he said thickly, pulling at his arm.  "I don't wanna see any more." He clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, then pulled with all his might.  The substance slid back half an inch.  He convulsed again, his eyes flying open.

            "NO! NO NO NO NO NO!" Harry began to struggle wildly.  "I'm not! I'm not! I'm not! It's all lies! LIES!" He began to sob and pull at his hand.  He shuddered, but kept pulling, now with Erin's help.  Flashes of images seared through his head…his mother, Neville's mother…he gasped for air and fought.  Row upon row of death eaters in a huge hall…cool gray stone, no windows…a fox…a fox?…Hogwarts, in the middle of the night, Voldemort surrounded by bodies…loyal followers…the hounds at his feet…but that hasn't happened yet.  With one last yank his hand came free; he spilled onto his back, Erin trapped halfway beneath him, panting.

            He laid his head on the stone, looking upwards, blind.  What was all that?  Memories? But that last one…it hasn't happened yet.  Maybe…a plan? He shuddered. 

            "H-Harry? You're crushing me." Harry rolled to the side and Erin slipped her leg out from underneath him.  She crawled to her knees and sat beside him as he flopped back onto his back.  She pushed her hair behind her ears.  "Are you…alright?"

            He shook his head silently; she reached out and touched his arm gently.  "It's like – condensed memory.  I see what he saw.  I feel what he felt.  I know what he…" Harry trailed off, rolling his head to face her.  "He's so sick in the head." He swallowed heavily.  "But…the worst thing is…he thinks that he's doing the right thing.  That his plan will ultimately make the world 'better', or at least better in how he sees it.  I dunno if he still feels that way.  But…" Harry shuddered faintly.  "The first memories.  He – he was almost idealistic.  He could have been – he could have been…"

            "What is this?" Erin and Harry froze.  The voice whispered past them, greenish in color, blind, but seeking.  They exchanged a panicked look.  Erin sprang to her feet and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling with all her might.

            "What sorts of things are crawling about in here?" Harry struggled to his feet, swaying dizzily as he stood, the ground bucking and swaying under him.  He grabbed onto Erin for support; she began to pull him in the direction of the crack in Voldemort's defenses.

            "Do we have a spy?" Harry shuddered and stumbled quicker, not looking behind himself now.  He knew the voice was near them…he could feel the skin between his shoulder blades shudder and itch.  He gasped for breath as silently as he could; Erin's grip was tight on him.  They were near the crack when the voice shot forward and wrapped itself around Erin's ankle.  She fell to the ground with a scream.

            Harry turned to her, his mouth open, his wand appearing out of nowhere.  Frantically Erin shook her head, her eyes wide and shiny.  Go, she mouthed.  Please, Harry go.  He shook his head briefly, trembling.  Erin's eyes hardened.  Go, damn you.  GO NOW!! Harry swallowed, his arm lowering slowly, tears standing in his eyes.  He caught her gaze for one long moment as the voice began to drag her away, struggling; then he turned and dove through the crack.

            Forgive me, Erin.

qpqp

            Harry landed flat on his face on the dream road.  He groaned and turned over onto his back, blinking blearily.  He frowned and sat up abruptly, oh that was a mistake.  He leaned over as far as he could and vomited; it was mostly red, which worried him greatly.  That can't be healthy.  He drew in a shaky breath, making a face at the taste in his mouth.  He sacrificed the bottom of his robe to become the use of a rag to wipe his face with.  That was nasty.  He flung the scrap of material away from him – only to have it come right back.

            "Watch where you throw your bloody trash!" Harry knew his mouth was probably hanging open, but he couldn't seem to care.  He blinked a few times up at the person in front of him.

            It – it looked sort of like a she, but Harry wasn't so sure with the loincloth the creature was wearing – snorted and looked down it's nose at the dark haired boy.  "What? You never see a selkie before?" Harry closed his mouth and shook his head slowly.  Now that he looked closer, the man – seal? – in front of him did have a skin draped across its shoulders. 

            "I – uh – well – no – but…" Harry frowned, the pain from his head subsiding slightly.  He looked around himself…there was no sight of Voldemort's mind, nor of the green dream road he was supposed to be on.  "Oh…shit." He gulped and looked back up at the creature, who was giving him quite a look.  "I – I don't know where I am."

            "Well sweetums, then it sure sucks to be you." The selkie folded his arms across his chest, canted his hip out and started to tap his foot, frowning.  "Look, honey, you really need to get home.  And I'm in a hurry, so…" the selkie fluttered one hand out, making a shooing gesture.  "Go on.  Go home.  Scat."
            Harry shook his head slowly.  "But…I don't know how." His stomach lurched, and he must have turned an interesting shade of green, since the selkie took a hasty step away from him, it's nose wrinkling up.

            The creature sighed and rolled its eyes.  "Barinthus so help me…" The creature came forward and reached down to Harry, pausing when he flinched.  "Hey there mortal.  I'm probably the only non-violent male selkie around, okay?  No flinching."

            Harry looked up at the selkie; the creature's eyes were dark, liquid brown.  His skin was tan and smooth, with absolutely no hair, except for on his head, which was a rich chestnut color.  The selkie grabbed his upper arm and easily picked Harry up, settling him on his feet with ease.  "There ya go, kiddo." The selkie let go of him quickly, not quite hiding the quick wipe of its hands well enough from Harry. 

            Harry had to choke back a semi-hysterical laugh.  I go from weird…to freaking insane. "Th-thanks." The stared at each other for a moment.  "Ah," Harry began just as the creature made to go around him.  "I'm sorry.  But…do you know where I am?"

            The selkie snorted rudely.  "Hello!  You're on the paths.  Barinthus what do they teach you kids these days…" he made to go around Harry again.

            "But!" The creature stopped again.  "How…how do I travel?  How – how can I find my way home?" The selkie frowned.

            "Well," the creature sighed.  "Look, I mean, we're really not supposed to tell mortals any of this, ya getting me?" Harry nodded rapidly.  The selkie blew out a salty breath, clearing the bangs from his eyes.  "Alright, but listen quick." He bent towards Harry. "Stick to the gray paths.  They're usually the safest.  They lead between places, if you get what I mean.  Follow them, and don't go off into the black, got me?" Harry nodded rapidly.  "Good.  Now, as to how to get you home…" the selkie trailed off, thinking.  "Well, the best thing to do is to close your eyes, picture 'home' and then look around at the paths you're on.  If any of them seem brighter to you, then follow that one.  But make sure that if you're at a crossroads, and you do something like that, that you leave a little something on the side of the road, or you're screwed.  Got it?"

            "Got it."

            "Good, now get.  You mortals…sure do smell." Harry blinked rapidly at the retreating back of the selkie, completely taken aback by his comment.  This world gets stranger and stranger the longer I'm in it.  He shook his head abruptly and closed his eyes.  He wanted to go home.  His head hurt, his throat burned, and the images from Voldemort's mind were still in his head, making him shiver and feel sick.  I wanna go home.  To Sirius…and Draco and, and Ginny and Neville and Professor Snape and Dumbledore…his breath hitched as he tried to concentrate.  He pictured Hogwarts in his mind, the lights of the castle a beacon in the dark. 

            Something pulsed under his feet and Harry's eyes flew open.  One of the paths was considerably lighter than the others; it stretched off into the dark, seemingly endless.  Harry took a deep breath, eyeing the road with a sinking heart.  No matter how long it is…I'll get home.  He nodded to himself and took a few steps down the road, then stopped.  You dolt! He eyed the crossroads he was at suspiciously, but saw no one on it.  He bit his lip and finally searched through his pockets, praying that there would be something there he could leave.

            He was in luck. He had a hunk of chocolate left in his pocket from one of his many appointments with Madam Pomfrey.  He went back to where the road he was about to take jutted off from the rest of the crossroads and laid down the sweet.

            "Ah." Harry shuffled awkwardly, straightening up.  "Er, thanks?" He looked around again, blushing faintly, feeling odd.  He shrugged and turned around, walking down the lit up road determinedly.  He never saw the petite hand that picked up the chocolate, nor the motherly eyes that considered it, nor the wrinkled mouth that ate it.  Harry's eyes were fixed on the point were the lit road disappeared into the dark.  You can do this Harry. You can.  Just put one foot in front of the other, just one foot in front of the other.  You'll get home.  You will.

qpqpqpqp

            Harry opened his eyes eons later to find himself back in the Hospital Wing.  His throat felt like ground chuck and every bone and muscle in his body hurt.  He was still strapped to the bed, and as an experimental tug on his wrists told him, the skin around the restraints was torn and bloody.  He whimpered, turning his head to one side as a wave of nausea overtook him.

            Gentle hands were suddenly there to free him and roll him over to empty his stomach into a bucket at the side of the bed.  "Shh, Harry.  Shh." Harry panted as he lay half on and half off of the bed, tears trickling down his skin to drip off his nose.  He shivered miserably, his head beginning to pound unmercifully. 

            The hands returned and soothed back his hair, tucking it behind his ears.  The unknown person pressed a vial to his lips and he sipped at it, wincing as the potion eased past his torn throat.  He felt his glasses slipped onto his face; he blinked several times to clear his eyes and looked up.  He felt his throat tighten briefly as he caretaker was revealed.         

            Severus was kneeling next to him, his lanky hair pushed behind his ears and dark bags were under his eyes.  For once his guarded expression was relaxed and Harry saw pity and compassion in the dark eyes.

            "P-Prof-Profes-," Harry's voice caught as she struggled to sit up and look around the room; they were alone.  "S-s-s-,"

            Severus eased him back onto some pillows, a brief look of pain flying across his face.  "Beat at ease, Mr. Potter.  Harry.  Shh."

            Harry shook his head jerkily, tears slipping past his eyelids.  "S-," he took a deep breath.  "Sirius?"
            Severus' face clouded over as he took a seat on the edge of Harry's bed.  "He –," the Potions Master glanced at the door as his mouth tightened briefly.  "We were forced to remove him from the room, Harry.  You can blame his absence on my insistence."

            The younger wizard let out a sigh, relaxing slightly.  "He – he didn't –,"

            "No, Mr. Potter.  He didn't." Severus reached over to the side table and picked up a sleeping draught.  He helped Harry drink it and rose from the bed after Harry's eyes began to slide shut.  "Sleep, Mr. Potter.  He'll be here when you wake, I promise." He reached out and brushed at Harry's bangs, I'm only checking on his scar, the lanky man kicked himself mentally, shaking his head slightly to clear it. 

            Harry's eyes slid shut completely and Severus' face softened slightly, his eyes troubled.  "I promise, Mr. Potter." He straightened his shoulders and glanced towards the door, anger now beginning to make his eyes sparkle dangerously. 

            Severus had not been happy to have Sirius in the same room as Harry.  Once the boy had begun to thrash, Sirius had nearly gone out of his skin, trying to get to Harry and attempt to wake him up.

            It wasn't until Harry had begun to describe the horrors he'd seen in Voldemort's mind that Sirius had cracked completely.  Then the animagus had backed away from the boy on the bed, shaking his head slowly as his eyes widened with each passing word.

            "He – he – I – I can't.  This – this is…" and the animagus had fled, much to Severus' disgust.  Now the Potions Master was on his way to find the other wizard and give him a considerable piece of his mind.

            He didn't have to go very far.  Sirius was huddled on the ground outside of Harry's room, his face drawn and haggard.  He looked up at Severus' sudden appearance, his eyes haunted.  "How is he?"

            Severus sneered, but closed the door behind him gently, only then rounding on the huddled man.  "You piece of quivering maggoty meat." He reached down, relishing the flinch from Sirius, grabbing the other man's arm and hauling him to his feet.  "You worthless," he began to drag the animagus down the hall, "spineless," he pushed open a door, revealing an empty room.  He threw Sirius in roughly, kicking the door shut behind them.  "Son of a bitch!" He clenched his hands into fists, anger making his eyes blaze.  "How could you leave his side when he needed you the most!"

            Anger made Sirius quiver before it suddenly left him.  He crumpled to the ground, anguish painted across his face.  "I know.  I know," he whispered, burying his face in his hands.

            Severus sneered.  "That's not an answer, Black."

            Sirius looked up at the Potions Master, tear tracks shiny on his face.  "I've failed him," he said miserably.  "I promised – I thought – I thought that I'd be able to handle it.  I thought that I could be strong for him.  But I couldn't, I couldn't.  It was like I was in Azkaban again and I was seeing –,"

            Fury flashed through Severus.  He crossed the distance between them in two strides and backhanded Sirius with enough force to send him sprawling. "This isn't about you," he snarled, standing over the gaping man. "This is about Harry.  This is about keeping him sane.  About making sure he stays here, with us and doesn't get lost in the abyss!  He needs you Black.  For some ungodly reason the boy loves you.  He trusts you.  You are his family, his world.  Now act like a gods be damned adult and pull your head out of your arse!"

            Sirius' white face began to redden.  "I know he needs me, you bastard." He struggled to his feet, wiping a trickle of blood away from his mouth.  "Don't you think I disgust myself for running?  Don't you think that I know with everything that I am that I have failed this test of his trust? Don't you think I know that?"

            The Potions Master brought his hands up and shoved Sirius out of his face.  "Then start acting like the person he needs and not the spineless worm you are."

            "I am not a worm!" Sirius launched himself at Severus, who caught him by the front of his robes and spun him around, shoving him up against the wall, pinning him there.

            "That's right.  Be angry, hold onto it." He shook Sirius, knocking his head against the wall.  "Focus on the anger, let that burn out the self pity.  Because if you fail him again Sirius Black I'll kill you myself." Severus let go of the stunned animagus, wiping his hands off on his robes with an expression of disgust.

            "Y-you…"

            Severus spat at Sirius' feet, making him flinch.  "Your godson is waiting for you, Black.  If I were you I'd hop on over to his room before you really piss me off." The Potions Master spun away, throwing open the door with a bang.  "Remember what I said, Black.  I always keep my promises." And with that he stalked from the room, his robes snapping behind him.

            Sirius watched him go with anger and confusion warring on his face.  His expression finally hardened, and he pushed himself from the wall, straightened his shoulders and marched from the room, heading towards Harry's side without looking back.

End Chapter 31

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Athenakitty: No Umbridge, unless I can work her in later as a character.  I'll try tho.  I refuse to read the last book, mostly on principle, although I really prolly should.  Ah well. 

Mr. Happy Java Man: Yeah, they're that stupid.  And to make it worse…there's people just like them.  I'm cheating in a way…I'm basing the Weasley's reactions on some personal and retold experiences…so, yeah, their attitude and level of betrayal really does happen in real life.

Relle: LOL you're welcome =)

Firefoot: no Charlie for now, sorry.  He's still silent in my head. Bill will return much later on in the story, but there will be updates on him here and there.  I'm glad you're enjoying the fic!