Welcome back everyone! You may remember me as that guy that once said, "I just started college, but that shouldn't affect my posting schedule too much." So yeah, that was a lie, wasn't it. Worry not, too much, I'll do my best to keep the story running. In any case, chapter 3 has arrived. It's slightly shorter than the last two, as I'm trying to get back in the flow of writing more. Hopefully, and I know how this turned out last time, so knock on wood here, I'll be back real soon with chapter 4. I've also got some other projects I want to start up, as well as some old one shot ideas floating around. So, just be on the look out. But that's enough from me. On to the chapter!

Chapter 3 - Stop Me If You've Heard This One…

Sirius's peals of laughter echoed around the dining table, ringing out over a grinning Harry's attempts to speak.

"And then the centaur says," Harry pauses for a second, steepling his hands and pretending to stare out into the distance. "Mars is awfully bright tonight." Sirius slams his head into the table, laughing uproariously. Hermione rolled her eyes, fighting to keep her smirk from turning into a full-on grin. Molly chose that moment to make her entrance, sweeping into the kitchen with her arms laden with dishes, with more floating in behind her.

"Dinner is served!" The old dining table was covered in dishes, so many that the antique carved legs seemed to creak under their weight. Molly bustled around the table, placing the platters she had carried in. Ron chose that moment to burst through the door, followed closely by Mr. Weasley, drawing up short when he noticed the additional figure seated near the head of the table.

"Harry?" Harry's grin widened.

"Ron!" Harry shot up from his seat at the table, embracing the lanky redhead.

"When did you get here, mate? I swear Dad and I were only gone for a few moments."

"Dumbledore and I arrived not even half an hour ago." The two teens sat at the table, jabbering away at each other throughout the meal, fielding admonishments from Hermione every time they decided they needed to say something faster than chewing the food in their mouths would allow. All in all, Harry figured it was the best day of the entire summer, and he was unable to remember a time that he had been happier. It didn't last very long after that.


Harry sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at his hands. He took a shaky breath, exhaled slowly, and stood, crossing the cool wood floors, to the bathroom, and to the sink. He grasped the porcelain, leaning heavily on it. The heavy mirror allowed him to look himself over. What he saw wasn't encouraging. Pale face, heavy bags, bloodshot eyes, and thin, greasy, hair. Closing his eyes, the nightmare flashed through his mind again and again, bombarding him with flashes of green and the screams of Cedric Diggory, echoing, over and over. Harry ran the sink, splashing himself with cold water in an attempt to ward off the dreams. He slumped back, resting against the wall, before sliding onto the ground. Knees pulled to his chest, arms hugging them, he sat there for an uncounted length of time.


The knock was almost so light that he thought it was simply the house, shifting and settling. Then it came back, slightly louder. The third time was too much for Harry, so he pulled himself up to answer.

"You're looking rough." Hermione's voice pierced through the fog inside of Harry's mind. She leaned against his door frame.

"You always have the best compliments, Hermione." Harry moved back towards the bed and sat. She followed him in, easing the door shut behind her, and sat next to him.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No." So they didn't. They sat there for a time, simply feeding off of the other's presence.

"Hermione? Can I ask you for a favor?" He didn't turn to face her.

"You know you can. Whether or not I do it is the real question, isn't it." She tried to crack a smile towards him, but the look in his eyes as he turned toward her killed it. All he did was hold out his arms towards her, and she practically dove into them. They stayed that way until they both fell into a deep sleep.


Sirius was the one to find them in the morning, coming to see if Harry was getting ready for the day. He walked in and saw the two entwined at the end of the bed. Slowly, he crept back out, closing the door. WHAM.

"KNOCK KNOCK, Godson-Harry. Wakey-wakey! It's almost time for breakfast!" The two teens bolted upright, almost crashing into each other in the process of trying to untangle.

"I'm going to go do something, just in case you need a moment to do anything. I'll be back in like three minutes, and I will also not be anywhere near the door or the staircase that leads to the floor the other kids are staying on. Just so you know. Bye now!" Sirius' footsteps seemed to move away from the door as the two teens practically fell onto the floor. Hermione began giggling as the two laid on the floor. She quickly flipped over onto her stomach, looking towards the raven-haired teen on the floor.

"I'm going to take this very obvious opportunity to run back to my room to attempt to avoid talking to your godfather about this." She softened for a moment, becoming more somber. "You know I'm here to talk if you need it." Harry nodded, and she jumped up, moving out the door quickly. Standing about four feet down the hall was Sirius Black. Silently, he mouthed "Thank you" as she moved down the hall.

"It's not what it looks like," She attempted to mouth back, and he simply winked back at her and slammed open Harry's door.

"Hiya Harry. How's my least favorite godson doing this disgusting morning?" Sirius was disturbingly chipper for the negative attitude his question should have reflected.

"He'd be doing much better if there wasn't a disgusting and flea-ridden mutt in his room." Harry glared at his disgustingly exuberant godfather from his admittedly uncomfortable position on the floor. Sirius transformed, padding over towards the partially upside down teen, before covering his face in grimm slobber. Said upside down teen shoved at the grimm animagus, desperately wiping at his face in an attempt to reduce the saliva covering it, before pulling himself into a more upright position. Sirius returned to his human form, before returning to the doorway. His smile diminished a bit as he took in the exhaust evident Harry's face. He flopped onto the bed as the teen tried to ease out some of the soreness that accumulated from his night spent in an uncomfortable positon.

"I'll assume that you're not losing sleep because of Hermione spending the night?" Harry directed a particularly droll look at the older man that was sprawled across his bed.

"So," Sirius paused, trying to think of how best to phrase his next words. "nightmares? If it is, I've got some potions that were helpf-"

"It's fine, Padfoot." Sirius returned the look his godson had just given him, clearly unbelieving of that statement.

"Really," Harry protested, "I'm doing fine. Just… adjusting."

"Your mother was like that." Sirius' voice was quiet. Harry lifted his head from its place on his knees.

"She was a spitfire, incredibly easy to anger and headstrong. But she was moody. She never wanted people to think that something was wrong." His lip quirked as his eyes clouded with nostalgia, and he flung his legs over the side of the bed. "Your father was the only person I knew that could pull her out of a funk." Harry leaned against his godfather's legs, and the two imagined how the two missing Potters would've acted if they were there. After a long moment, Sirius pushed his way off the bed.

"Molly's probably wondering where we are. I told her I'd come get you for breakfast, after all." Harry gave a smile at that, and wrapped an arm around his godfather as he rose to stand next to him.

"There is nothing like food cooked by Molly Weasley to start your morning. Come on, you old mutt. Let's get something to eat."