Harry did not wake all at once. For the first time in ages, he hadn't startled himself awake, mid-choke, mid-sob and struggled to gain his breathe. Instead, he gained consciousness slowly, as if his mind wasn't quite ready up wake up.
The first thing he was aware of was warmth. In another few seconds, he realized that warmth was coming from a body. He could feel a chest under his head and arms wrapped tightly around him. He could feel the chest moving as it talked. He was starting to hear voices, but he wasn't quite awake enough to make them out. Part of him felt as though it was important that he awake, but the rest of him disagreed. He couldn't remember be this well-rested and comfortable in a long time. He snuggled closer into whoever was holding him, and at his movement, he heard the voices come to an abrupt halt. He felt a hand begin to run through his hair.
"Harry," a soft voice said. "You awake?"
"Mhmmmm…" he grumbled. He felt the chest beneath his head huff out a laugh.
"No then?" said a voice he finally recognized as Sirius'. "I suppose you don't want any breakfast then?"
The moment the question left Sirius' lips, Harry realized exactly how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten since before he had left the Dursleys'. That was the motivation he needed to leave the cocoon he had found himself unwilling to leave.
"Mmm, I could go for breakfast," he mumbled quietly, still refusing to lift his head or even open his eyes. He felt Sirius laugh again.
"I'll go grab some love," said a voice he recognized as Mrs. Weasley. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wake up to actually eat it." Harry heard her footsteps leave the room and head downstairs.
"Come on mutt," Sirius said, trying to shove Harry off of him. "Time to get up." Harry begrudgingly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When he opened them, someone was holding his glasses in front his face. He put them on as he moved off of Sirius' legs and onto the bed itself. He looked around the room. Remus was leaning against the desk. Mr. Weasley was sitting on the opposite bed, and Sirius was rubbing his legs on the bed next to Harry. Many questions started running through Harry's head.
"What time is it? What's going on?" Harry asked.
"It's nearly ten," answered Mr. Weasley. "We thought it best to let you sleep."
"As to what's going on, how well to you remember last night?" asked Remus.
Harry looked between the three of them. He had waited all summer for the chance to talk about his struggles with someone, but now that he was here, he was afraid to admit it. "I had a nightmare," is what he went with in the end.
"Do you remember what it was about?" asked Sirius.
"The cemetery. Same as always."
"So you remember what else?" Sirius asked again.
Harry thought for a moment. Last night's dream had been different, but it took him a moment to remember why. "I left the cemetery. I went someplace else. Voldemort was there. He was torturing me." Harry looked up to see all three men had worried expressions on their faces. "What? What is it?"
Before they could answer him, Mrs. Weasley walked in with a trade loaded with more food than Harry thought he had seen all summer. "Now you eat up," she said placing the tray over his lap. "You're looking far too peakish."
Harry was about to protest that he couldn't possibly eat that much, but as he looked at the tray of food, his stomach grumbled loudly, and he decided to give it his best.
"So what about my dream has you so worried?" he asked as he started shoveling eggs into his mouth. The four adults looked at one another before speaking.
"We wouldn't be as worried if it was just the cemetery," said Remus. "Obviously, we are worried for you and want to help with your nightmares, but it is only natural that you'd be haunted by the events of that night. I imagine it was rather traumatizing."
Harry looked down at his food so Remus wouldn't see his face. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He has glad his struggles were finally being acknowledged, and he has happy Remus wasn't pretending to know what he went through, but he couldn't help feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.
"What's got us worried," Sirius piped up, "is the second bit." Harry looked at him curiously. "That was something you hadn't experienced personally. You weren't actually there, and yet you saw it. That presents a problem. You shouldn't be able to see into Voldemort's mind like that. We're worried that…" Sirius trailed off and looked at Remus. The adults all exchanged a look as if deciding what to say.
"You're worried about what?" Harry asked looking from Sirius to Remus.
"We promised him we wouldn't keep things from him," Remus said to Sirius. "We promised ourselves we wouldn't do that again." Sirius looked down at his own lap and sighed.
"Remus is right." Sirius turned towards Harry. "We're worried if you can see into his mind, that it might be possible that he could see into yours. I'm sure you can imagine that would be a problem."
Harry looked between them to see how they reacted to this news. They all looked grim, so Harry knew this was serious. "So what do we do?"
"Well, we've spoken to Dumbledore," began Remus.
"About a great number of things," interrupted Sirius. "He has been quite unhelpful about certain matters." Sirius shared a look with Harry, who felt warmth fill his chest at the implication that Sirius was sticking up for him.
"True," said Remus. "But he has been helpful in other matters. He has agreed to offer us assistance for stopping your visions, but you may not like it."
"Hell I don't exactly like it," said Sirius angrily.
"Like what?" asked Harry.
"Tell me Harry," began Mr. Weasley. "What do you know about occlumency?"
Harry scrunched his face up in confusion. "Occlu—what?"
"Occlumency," said Remus. "It is a form of magic that allows a person to close off their mind from others. There is the opposite, legilimency, which allows a witch or wizard to look into another's mind. Voldemort is rather talented at this particular brand of magic, and if he discovers the connection between your minds, he will likely try to use it."
"By studying occlumency, you can protect yourself from these kinds of intrusions," said Mr. Weasley.
"Okay, so what's the problem?" asked Harry, certain he was missing something.
"It isn't that you have to learn it that is the problem," said Sirius. "It is the person who will be teaching you."
"Who?"
"Someone who is exceptionally good at it," said Remus. "And I want to stress Harry, that this was my suggestion and not Dumbledore's. I know you aren't particularly fond of this person, but he really is the best option."
Harry's stomach was starting to sink. Sirius had a look on his face that could only be described as disgust, as if he had smelt something particularly awful. There was only one person who could give Sirius that look.
"Please don't say what I think you're going to say," Harry pleaded.
"Professor Snape has agreed to be the one to teach you, and personally I think we should all be thankful," said Mr. Weasley.
Harry groaned, and Sirius patted him on the back and gave him a consoling look. "Does it have to be him?" Harry asked. "Isn't there anyone else?"
"Severus is the best option," insisted Remus. "He really is the most qualified. And as he has agreed to help, I feel you should be willing to give it a chance. Or do you want Voldemort to take over your mind?"
"Or do you want to keep dreaming of the cemetery night after night?" Mrs. Weasley asked softly.
Harry sighed. He knew they had a point. He really had to learn this skill. His mind was already messed up enough without Voldemort playing around in it.
"So when does this start?" Harry asked bitterly.
Harry learned he had until the following evening to prepare for his first lesson. Snape had provided dreamless sleep for Harry to take that night, so that he would be well rested and ready for his lesson. While Harry was excited at the prospect of not having nightmares, he really wished he could be taught be anyone else.
"Can't one of you teach me?" Harry asked Remus and Sirius.
"Neither of us are skilled in the art," Remus said. "It is a rarer form of magic. One neither of us have had the opportunity nor need to practice."
"You could always ask Dumbledore to teach you," Sirius said.
Harry scoffed. Dumbledore had still not come to Grimmauld Place. While Harry had a bone to pick, he was also not ready to confront his headmaster. And so he accepted his fate.
After the matter had been settled, Remus finally made good on his promise and filled Harry in on all that he had missed. He finally learned about all that had happened the past few weeks, the Order, headquarters, and what they knew of Voldemort. And yet, they wouldn't tell him everything.
"But what is the weapon?" Harry begged.
"No," said Remus, unmoved. "There are certain things that only members of the Order needs to be aware of and you are not part of the order. Nor will you be," he added as he saw Harry start to protest.
"But…"
"No buts. You're still a child Harry. Everything I've told you is the same that your friends know. They aren't aware of what goes on in the meetings either."
No matter what Harry said, Remus and Sirius wouldn't budge on this. Instead, they sent him to where the others were. Harry missed Ron and Hermione more than anything, but he was still too angry for forgiveness. Sirius' admission that he wouldn't have kept James in the dark still rang in his head. He couldn't help but feel that perhaps they weren't as good of friends as he had originally thought. Ron had already abandoned him once. It was with this train of thought that he came upon them.
He found them with Mrs. Weasley, helping to clean out the drawing room. This was apparently what his friends and the remainder of the Weasley gang had been doing while the Order did whatever it was the Order was busy doing. Everyone stopped to look at him when he entered the room, and Ron and Hermione gave him eyes full of hope. Harry resolutely ignored them. He turned to Mrs. Weasley instead.
"I was sent here to help clean," he said.
"Well we're glad to have you," Mrs. Weasley said.
"What do you need me to help with," he asked, still refusing to look at Ron and Hermione.
Sensing the tension, Mrs. Weasley suggested, "Why don't you go help Fred and George with the curtains. They're filled with doxies."
And so Harry helped the twins. He couldn't help but laugh from time to time at their antics, but any happiness he could have had was ruined by the stares he could feel directed his way by Ron and Hermione. He could hear them whispering to one another in between their glances, but he didn't so much as acknowledge their presence. He only acknowledged Ron's siblings. After a few hours of this and a late lunch, Harry slipped away to explore his new temporary home. As happy as he was to be in the loop and where everyone else was, there were only so many longing glances he could take. He knew it would be hard to keep this up while being stuck in the same house, but Harry was in no way ready to forgive just yet.
Many doors were locked, and a good number he opened looked either freshly cleaned or untouched. Eventually, he made his way to a room, some sort of drawing room or parlor, that had a tapestry covering an entire wall. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a family tree. He began to search through the various names.
"I see you found my family tree," said Sirius from the doorway, startling Harry who had been too absorbed to hear him enter.
"What do you mean your family?" Harry asked once he recovered.
"Well, this place is my family home," he said as he walked over to stand in front the tapestry. He pointed at a man who looked like an older version of Sirius. The banner under the image said "Orion." "That's dear old dad." A line connected the man to a woman Harry recognized from the portrait downstairs. "And that's mum."
"So the screaming portrait that insults everyone in the house?"
"So you understand my dislike for them?" Sirius asked with a bitter laugh.
"Wow," said Harry. "She seems even worse than Aunt Petunia." That took Sirius out of his reverie.
"Harry, just how bad is your Aunt Petunia?" Harry didn't answer. "You mentioned things like locks on doors and being starved. Was all that true? What exactly did those people do to you?"
Harry sighed and turned back to the tapestry, tracing the lines that connected the images. "The Dursleys hate magic," he finally said. "I didn't know I was a wizard until Hagrid found me on my 11th birthday, but they knew even if I didn't. And they hated me for it. Dudley was the golden child who could do no wrong and I was the freak who messed everything up. So, yeah. Everything I said was true."
As Harry finished, he finally turned to look at Sirius. He could see both anger and sadness floating across his features. "Oh, Harry." Sirius enveloped him in a tight hug. Harry wasn't used to this kind of affection from family, but just like the previous night, he realized it was comforting. "Harry I swear to you if I had even an inkling of what life was like for you there I would never have let you go back." Sirius pulled back to look Harry in the eyes. "You have to know that."
"I know Sirius," he replied. "I believe you."
"And I don't care what Dumbledore says, you're never going back there," Sirius insisted. "Besides, if this summer has proved anything it's that your no safer there than any place else."
"Thanks Sirius. You don't know what that means."
"Oh, but I do Harry," Sirius said. He looked back at the tapestry. "The Black family are purebloods to the core. The lapped up all that nonsense Voldemort spews. I ran away when I was 16. I know what it means to be at odds with your family. To be mistreated in your own home."
"Where did you go?" Harry asked.
"Your dads," Sirius replied with a smile. "I was always welcome at the Potters'. They showed me what a real family was supposed to look like."
The thought of his dad taking Sirius in made Harry smile. He turned back to the tapestry to look at Sirius' parents. Below them, there was a line leading to a burnt out hole and another leading to a young man named Regulus.
"Who's Regulus?" asked Harry. "And where are you?"
Sirius pointed to the burnt hole. "I was there. My charming mother blasted me off the tree when I ran away. I wasn't worthy of being part of the family anymore." Sirius traced the banner with the name "Regulus" on it. "Regulus was my brother."
"I didn't know who had a brother," Harry said. "What happened to him?"
"No one knows," Sirius said quietly. "I'm certain he became a Death Eater. But then he just disappeared. He must have died. I just wish I knew how."
"I'm sorry Sirius," said Harry. "That must be awful."
"Let's just agree we both had awful childhoods we didn't deserve eh?" Sirius said with a smile, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"Agreed," Harry said, with his first real laugh in weeks.
"Speaking of Regulus," Sirius said, "I want to show you something. Come on." Sirius led Harry out the room and up the stairs to the top landing. There were two doors there. One had a plaque that said "Sirius Orion Black" and another underneath that said "Keep Out." The second door had a plaque that read "Regulus Arcturus Black."
"Was this his room?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Sirius answered. "And this one's mine. We had intended for you to share the room Ron is in, but given everything that's happened, I'd rather have you closer to me. This way if you have a nightmare, I can be close by to help. So I had Kreacher clean up Regulus' old room for you. He through a fit, but I told him he didn't have to clean it out, just make it livable again." Sirius opened the door to expose a rather nice, if not old and worn, room.
"Who's Kreacher?"
"Oh he's the Black family house elf," Sirius said. "You haven't met him yet?" Harry shook his head no. "Well he's positively awful. Little bugger always hated me. He worshipped the ground my mother walked on. Regulus too."
Harry stepped into the room. "Thanks for this Sirius. It means a lot."
"Don't mention it," Sirius said as he stepped into the room behind Harry. "Now, if you're not tired of serious discussion yet, we should probably talk about the hearing you're going to have at the ministry. Dumbledore will do most of the talking, and I know how angry you are at him. How angry we are. But all things considered it will probably be best if you let him work his magic."
Harry sighed. "What should I expect?"
"Come on, let's sit and talk." And with that, Sirius closed the door. They hashed out what Harry needed to do for the hearing, including getting him a set of formal robes, which Sirius was appalled to discover he lacked. Given that discovery Sirius and Harry sat for the rest of the day, and had a legitimate discussion. Not a discussion about abusive families or secret organizations, but the kind of discussion a godson would want to have with his godfather.
Part of Harry was still angry when he thought of the way he had been treated. But then, he thought of everything Sirius was doing to make up for it, and for the first time since he had faced Voldemort in the cemetery, Harry felt genuinely happy.