Chapter 4 - Of a meeting and new acquaintances

It was not without a jolt that the wizarding world's hero was pulled out of a pleasant dream of endless blue skies and Quidditch, and was abruptly awoken. Sitting up slowly, his eyes still squinted from the morning sunlight Harry winced at the stabbing soreness of his complaining muscles. What on earth had he done to end up so sore? Hurriedly pushing the throbbing pain to the back of his mind, he looked around and above himself through eyes so narrow they were nearly shut, in a rather hopeless effort to determined where he was through the heavily blurred haze that was his surroundings. Searching through the dewy grass somewhat hurriedly, as he realized that he was outside somewhere, his nimble fingers feeling for his black, steel-rimmed spectacles, panic slowly mounting. If caught in the crossfire of a battle between Death Eaters, he would've been as good as dead, and so wasn't found wanting for such a situation to arise.

Harry sighed in relief as his fingers bumped into the glass lens of his specs. Safe.. Or not so…

Fumbling a bit when he picked the damp metal frames, he first wiped the lenses dry and then put the glasses on his nose, pushing them back into a comfortable position. Harry blinked as his eyes adjusted, and then quickly readied his faithful holly and phoenix feather wand, which had been clenched tight in his cramped hand all along, before looking around at his surroundings once more, frowning at the strange shrubs and trees growing before him. Although the vegetation definitely didn't look like what he was used to seeing in England, Harry realized that they did have a similar look to a combination of both the Forbidden Forest, the Surrey woods, and something else. He blinked, confused. Judging his surroundings, he wouldn't be able to get a clear idea of where he was.

Ugh. I'm in the middle of nowhere with no idea what so ever of where my current position is. Fortunately, I still have my wand and glasses.

A small, although unexpected noise on his left made him start and Harry whipped around, his wand at the ready and clutched tightly in his hand...

His jaw went slack and his emerald eyes opened wide at the person crouching before him. Just in time, Harry remembered to keep his fingers wrapped around his wand before he dropped it on the ground, and he forced his sluggish, frozen mind to think.

A black-haired, tall, blue-eyed man stood, or rather crouched next to him, one man that Harry had never though it possible to see again. It was the infamous Sirius Black, and he appeared to be in a rather poor state, still wearing the clothing that Harry had last seen him in- at the Ministry of Magic.

"W-who… W-what..." his voice died off, at loss for words.

The man spoke hesitantly. "Harry- "

Only to be cut off by a suddenly trembling boy, green eyes flashing not with fear, but with anger, his wand still aimed at the man's heart. "How dare you." Harry seethed, "You dare... Even after he died!"

The man looked at Harry, his ice-blue eyes reflecting genuine confusion at the child's anger. "Died? Harry, what are you going on about..." he frowned, truly perplexed.

This time, it was Harry's turn to be stunned speechless. The man hadn't known at all, and what was more, didn't seem to remember anything about what events had happened in the wizarding world. It was definitely time for Harry to start asking the "impostor" questions.

"Um. Okay..." he frowned, "What's the last thing you remember from back home? And what the hell are you doing here? Never mind that, where in hell is here!" His voice was steadily rising in volume, fuelled by the panic and frustration growing in his chest. He ran a hand through his damp, tangled hair in a hopeless attempt to distract himself from the current situation.

The black-haired man shifted uncomfortably in his crouched position, and opened his mouth slowly, still looking very puzzled and shaken up himself. "I..." He seemed to be having trouble putting the panic of thoughts flitting through his head together.

Harry's mind was whirling with all of the things happening to him. Sirius dieing, the rest of the episode at the Department of Mysteries, going back "home" to the Dursley's house, teaching himself to become an animagus, waking up here... Good thing I still had my wand. In his opinion, even that was a little too much for a sixteen-year-old teenager destined to save the wizarding world.

Better be careful...

"I was in Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Mysteries… Fighting my cousin, Bellatrix…" He paused, and took a slow breath, before starting his story up again. "She was angry... Fired a stunner at me, and then..." The man shivered, as if reliving something. "Darkness, and lots of cold... Screaming…" His eyes looked truly haunted, like when Harry had first seen him lost in memories of Azkaban in his third year at Hogwarts.

Harry froze. He recognized that look in the man's eyes, and knew that this was no impostor or Death Eater.

This was-

"Sirius!"

The boy threw himself at the older man, making his godfather loose his balance and land roughly on his rear, and into a nearby tree with an "Oof!" as the wind was knocked out of him. Harry enveloped Sirius in a hug, clinging to the man as if he were a lifeline, hot, salty tears running down his cheeks, sobs wracking his slim frame, crying for the first time in many weeks, letting the misery flow out of behind the emotional dam. The innocent convict hugged back, still puzzled, but overall glad to seen his godson again, safe and sound. He murmured soft consolations as he held the distraught boy close, trying to calm him down enough that he would be able to ask the boy questions.

Although it took a while for Harry to calm down, when he had stopped crying and sobbing, the boy then realized that he hadn't felt so cleansedand serene in a long, long while. As his tired eyes drooped shut, and he relaxed fully into his godfather's embrace, his last thought was:

I hope Sirius doesn't mind...

The tall man himself hadn't quite noticed the point in time when his godson had actually fallen asleep, so lost in his thoughts he had been, mulling over what the short boy had let slip in his angry -mostly one-sided- argument. Feeling a new weight on his leg, moving as little as possible, Sirius bent to reach the mellow brown holly wand that had slipped from his sleeping godson's hand. After having been stunned by his tramp of a cousin, he had lost his own stolen wand. He would have to ask Harry about the battle at the Department of Mysteries, because apparently, the boy had known more than he did. Besides since when was he dead? Sirius was pretty sure that he felt completely alive, and who was somebody else to judge him?

Absentmindedly, the escapee twirled the phoenix feather wand in his free hand, oblivious to his surroundings.

This in itself had turned out to be the biggest mistake the man could have made.

A whispered sleeping jutsu, a pushed pressure point later, and Sirius Black and Harry Potter knew no more.

A rough shove brought the sleeping Sirius back to reality, as he was none too gently deposited into someplace dark and cool-floored. Probably stone, he mused with a shiver. The whole atmosphere reminded him of Azkaban. A low groan next to him echoed the once-again prisoner's feelings, as he reached to massage his mistreated back. Or at least, tried to, stopping when he realized that his hands were held behind his back. He then cracked his sleepy eye open, blearily looking around his new jail-cell, taking in the grey stone walls and floors, and the ventilation shaft in the upper right corner, his eyes stopping on the smaller form of a child. He squinted, and with a sigh of relief, saw that his godson looked fine and un-injured. Clearing his dry throat, Sirius half-croaked, "Harry…"

Said boy rolled over and sat up, wincing at the movement, his bruised ribs and raw wrists, shackled in metal handcuffs, complained. Gently nudging his glasses back up his nose with his shoulder, Harry looked around at his surroundings, briefly smiling at his godfather. There were no doors or windows in this small room, which was barely big enough for two people not to feel cramped in. There weren't any other items in the cell except perhaps the constantly whirring ventilation shaft, so Harry though it safe enough to deduct that this door-less room was only a holding-cell for prisoners. Thankfully, he hadn't been in prison much, and Sirius was pretty much only experienced in magical cells...

I'm really making this sound like a sort of job expertise, knowing what kind of cells one might reside in… Inwardly, Harry snorted, but this particular one admittedly really did look muggle.

He turned back to his godfather, and opened his own mouth, managing to formulate his thoughts into one question.

"So. What's next?"

Pressure Points - Points around the human body that are used to augment or reduce the never-stopping flow of charka. Even without the bloodline ability "Byakugan," with the knowledge of it's position, pressing a certain point(s) will render a person unconscious.

Byakugan - The bloodline ability of the Hyuuga clan of Konoha. Has a vision of almost 360 degrees around the user, save for one weak point located at the upper back/lower neck, aligned with the spinal cord. Also allows the user to detect all movement within a certain radius of him/her, depending on the level of skill.