The Order of The Phoenix is pulled together for the first time in 11 years. 11 years since Voldemort died, and The-Boy-Who-Lived earned his title. Pulled together to finalise the moment, to confirm that, Voldemort has truly been vanquished. The day is similar, almost.

Same overcast day.

Same people left over.

And the words hung in the air like last time, as if people can not truly believe it.

"Harry Potter has died".

The words are announced by Dumbledore, except there is no twinkle in the eye, the proud but exhausted glimmer that meant the war was won, but there is still work to be done.

Now there is only defeat.

"Voldemort is on the rise and Harry is incapacitated. We know nothing of his where-abouts or who is with him. However, we do know this," he glances briefly at Lupin, knowing how this news will affect him most, "Sirius Black is once more by his side". Chaos break out among the table, Mrs and Mr Weasley are discussing things heatedly between them, worried about the safety of their kids. Those who are Ministry workers now are nodding evenly, they already know, gossip still flies in government settings. Snape is wearing a furious scowl on his face, he hated Black before he was found to be a traitorous felon who killed the love of his life.

Strangely enough Lupin is wearing the same dark expression. Lupin is generally a peaceful soul, only when The Wolf is close to the surface, even then, he seems feral. Not this black rage close to the surface that seems ready to burst.

"He will probably try to return to His Master, why he chose now we don't know..", he speaks above the noise, "but he might try to seek revenge on those who imprisoned him. Azkaban might of hanged him, we don't know what he will do next…"

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It's the best summer he's ever had. Quite literally. And he's dead. He's had two months to deal with it, and he's almost come to terms with it. Almost.

It's odd really, he wanted to spend the summer last in Hogwarts for fear the Dursley's would kill him, and now he's dead and he's staying at Hogwarts forever. When that thought popped into his head he had started laughing. Overcome with hysteria, and needless of breath it lasted longer that should have possible. When The Bloody Baron found him he was sure he came across crazy, half bent over, one arm clutching at his stomach, the other braced against the wall, (a habit he had yet to break, trying to grasp onto physical objects), shaking profusely.

But that was at the start of the holiday. Which had slowly turned into the best summer of his life. He didn't see the Dursley's once! Which was the best news he'd ever received, though it stung slightly when they didn't show at his funeral, he understood. They had taken him in when he was a baby, they had no obligation to attend his funeral. So it was fair, in a way that had shocked McGonagall when he told her this.

She just doesn't understand that's the way it is in his family.

Ron and Hermione visited lots, and he found he can play a few wizarding games even as a ghost. Wizarding chess is okay, as he only has to speak commands, Gobstones he was working on, making himself corporeal enough to hold them and throw. But, a few Muggle games were played too, hide and seek, tag (as they could feel when his form passed through them), so many that Harry never had a chance to play before and any others that Hermione could think of.

His birthday was a bit of a downer. He had to remind them a couple days before, when they floo'd through for an hour, that they didn't need to get anything for his birthday, or Christmas, he can't exactly use anything now. That made Hermione's eyes grow shiny with tears, and Ron to draw in a shaky breath. He supposed it makes it easier that Harry himself is still around, because they move on swiftly and on his Birthday the whole Weasley Clan comes over with Hermione and it's best birthday he's ever had.

Another incredibly odd thing happened that summer. He became friends with Snape. Okay, not friends friends. Not even acquaintances, or even liked. But tolerated.

It started with the hysteria fit down in the dungeons, happened across The Bloody Baron, the cold dampness inspiring his thoughts as he explored the belly of Hogwarts. The Baron it seemed had no tolerance for over-emotional forever teenagers, and left immediately, returning a couple minutes later with an annoyed looking Snape in tow.

"Potter, as you are no longer a pupil of this school I am under no obligation to help you," it seems to annoy Snape that he can no longer glare down at him now they're the same height as Harry floats.

"Tell that to the Baron," Harry gasps out, phantom tears drifting down his face, "besides, you never did so while I was alive? Why start now".

It isn't something Harry would dare to say to Snape if he was alive, but being dead, the worst thing he can do is insult him, and Harry can shoot away with no consequence. Anyways, Snape has never been that scary. Harry was, after all, used to the way of Vernon, and the disapproving flares of primary school teachers who thought Harry was up to mischief. Snape was unsettling, yes. With a low tone of voice and insults cutting enough to draw blood, he was not someone to be crossed. But Harry has experience tuning out the insults, so, Snape? Not scary.

Snape's face doesn't change, not by a single breadth, but he does sigh, "Potter, believe me, I do not want to be here as much as you want to be crying as a ghost. However, Dumbledore," he spits out the Headmaster's name as to prove he wasn't here by his own choosing, "believes that your mental welfare is something to be looked after."

"Mental welfare?" Harry starts laughing doubly hard, though he had just started to wind down, "my brains six feet below! I thought it was you that said I didn't have any brains when I was alone, let alone an illusion!" He gestures to his own body, he was back in the robes he wore when he died. Not of his own choosing, but he wasn't strong enough yet to change it permanently, though he would in time.

Snape actually looks pained when he speaks next, his smooth voice still sounding like he was mocking you in a way you didn't know yet, "I still believe you don't, Potter. Facing a Basilisk on your own! I at least thought you smarter than that! No brains indeed." He takes a deep breath, "you still have emotions. Not looking after them can cause you to be like Peeves".

At Harry's questioning look, he reply's, "A poltergeist, a menace. No real hold over yourself."

It was mildly disconcerting thatSnape didn't try to belittle for not calling him stupid for not knowing that. Thinking back on it later, he would find that throughout the conversation, it was the nicest Snape had been to him, ever.

"Oh".

The Potions Professor shakes his head in exasperation, "Oh, indeed. Now come back to the Student Zone. It is rather unsafe for anyone not powerful enough to ward off magic creatures to be further than the Slytherin Dungeons."

Harry's head shoots up in alarm, laughter subsiding. "Magical Creatures? Why does Hogwarts have magical creatures in the castle? How can they harm me?"

Snape pinches the bridge of his nose, turns and strides away, when he hears no movement, he looks around, Harry is right behind him. A look of realisation appears, he wouldn't hear any footsteps from Potter, who is wearing a confused look on his face. "It's too cold to stay down here much longer, Potter. You may not feel the cold but I do." He knows is actually confused about the way he stopped suddenly, but he's not going to admit that he forgot that Harry was actually a ghost. "To answer your questions, you are a magical being, dead or alive, remember that Nearly Headless Nick was still able to be petrified by the basilisk." His voice is in lecture mode, no room for interruptions or stopping, "they feed off the magic of the school, they pose no harm to the students, preferring the darker corridors, as long as we don't bother them, they won't bother with us, now." He turns to look at Harry when they are at the threshold of the Dungeons, "go find one of the teachers who will dote on you, for I most certainly won't."

Snape turns back around to his quarters, leaving Harry to drift thoughtfully back to the sunnier areas of the castle.

PAGE BREAK

The 31st of August, a day before the students of Hogwarts arrive to begin another school year. He's been enjoying the lack of students, with most of the time spent by himself, hurtling down the corridors at top speed with no limit because he can't hurt himself, or jumping off the top floor, (which is many more floors up than people think), down the huge stairwell, passing through the stairwells, practicing to slow down before going to far down. He's fairly certain he scared McGonagall to death a couple times, he's almost surprised that that her ghost doesn't join him.

He's talked to Snape a few more times, and though he's sure most of their conversations are based on pity, but he's almost come to enjoy the sarcasm filled conversations. They're not really conversations, rather just snark filled comments passed by when he passed Harry doing anything. Like the first he witnessed Harry plummeting down, then stopping a second too late, so he ends up with only his head and shoulder appearing above the ground, as Snape passes by towards the greenhouses, to his credit, he doesn't even blink.

Just a, "One would have thought you could have gained maturity dying for a second time, Potter." Before he continues on his way.

He's had more conversations with Lupin though, and he wishes he could have met him before, and given him a hug. He often just looks sad, so sad, Harry just does all he can to make him smile, and Lupin tells him more stories about his mother and father. How his dad was just as good at Quidditch, (though he heard Harry was better even at a younger age).

Every moment spent with Harry feels like forgiveness he doesn't deserve. Every time he looks at his face, stretched into a smile that brightens up his pale face, into something that seems more… more saturated, more alive, he just feels guilt that threatens to overwhelm him when he remembers how he left Harry for eleven years without so much as a letter…

but he keeps telling stories that make Harry smile, and he can forget for just a while that it hasn't always been like this. That makes him want to unleash the wolf on anyone that made Harry's life hell, like the Dursley's. Every fly away comment Harry makes about them, how he'd never made any friends in Primary school, ("I never had the chance, ya see. Dudley threatened anyone who tried, but I was okay, really!"), how he was deprived of food,("I didn't eat much, 'cause I didn't always manage to finish the chores in time, but I loved the gardening, I always loved that"), and so much more.

At the moment Harry was telling him how he caught the remembal, when Malfoy threw it in an attempt to one up him, and McGonagall came storming out, ("she went to Snapes class and asked for 'Wood'! I thought she was going to punish me!"). He smiles and laughs as Harry does, but inside he's raging. He wants to storm up to Dumbledore and ask how in Merlins name did he ever come to the conclusion the Dursleys were fit carers, when they made Harry think he was going to get beaten?

The only thing that consoles him is that Harry is never going near them again. He can't right any wrongs for the moment, all he can do is make Harry smile.

PAGE BREAK

It's odd seeing it from the other side. (Pun not intended). Seeing 2nd year and up file in and laugh as they find their seats, looking up expectedly to see the teachers and glancing at Lupin, obviously wondering who that is. Looking up, looking glad to be under Hogwart's skies. That's where Harry is, amongst the candles and fake stars, barely visible. It's just as wonderous from up here, the magical sky, like you're actually floating through space, it's the closest he'll be to the stars, he thinks. But it's beautiful.

Ron and Hermione are looking around, he can see them, bright red hair and frizzy black hair, opposite Neville's neatly combed head and Dead and Seaumus' close heads.

The First Years are being ushered in, whispering nervously amongst themselves, until being shushed by Hagrid. One by one, they're called up, and Harry cheers for every House. He catches a few confused students looking around for the shouting coming from the sky, but they shrug and turn back around.

Once everyone is sat down Hagrid and McGonagall included, Dumbledore stands, he makes the usual speech, 'No merchandise from Zonko's Joke Shop are to be used, no spells in the hallways, the Dementors are here for your protection, try to stay away from them, we will be issuing extra chocolate for those who need it'.

The last statement is the one that catches his notice. Dementors? What's a Dementor? What are they protecting him from? He has no time to think though, because Dumbledore is announcing him, "and of course, we have a new addition to the castle, someone who sacrificed themselves selflessly for this school and the people in it, Harry Potter. He will be joining us for the feast," murmurs of excitement rifle the crowd,"But not until later." Audible groans of disappointment are heard.

Dumbledore says his magic words, and food appears on the table. Their disappointment at not seeing The-Boy-Who-Is-A-Ghost quickly vanishes as they dig into the feast. He watches the House Ghosts rose through the table to greet the First Years and Nearly Headless Nick does his famous trick. Now it's his turn, he might not have been that outgoing alive, but he always tried to be friendly, and being a ghost just made him feel more.. free, more confident to be confident inform of other people.

He dives down to sit crosslegged on a bare bit of table. Grinning as he hears Ron and Hermione call his name.

"Hello!" He smiles reassuringly at the First Year who almost spills Pumpkin Juice all over herself.

"Hu-hullo".

"Welcome to Hogwarts! I loved it as a First Year, it was great! As long as you don't get on the wrong side of Snape," he advises them, getting to his feet to float further up the table, "read the first chapters before lessons, you'll thank me later!" He laughs as he feels Snape glaring at the back of his head. He ignores him and the chatter of First Years to settle next to his friends.

"Hey, guys!"

He gets a chorus of 'hullo's' in return and asks about their holidays, Dean, Seamus and Neville still look stricken at the sight of him, and after an awkward silence began to explain, and suddenly it was like old times, making fun and laughing at the Death Glares Snape would give at the Gryffindor table, Hermione butting in to give a lecture about this years learning and rumours about the new Defense teacher.

"He looks poor," is overheard from one of the younger students who evidently hasn't learned yet that Fathers Money isn't going to carry you everywhere.

"At least he'll better that the last two!" Hermione exclaims.

"Yeah",Harry stifled a laugh, "But anyone can beat Voldemort and a phoney!"

Ron looks discomforted at Harry saying His name, but gives a genuine laugh.

Once the laughter dies down he asks a question, "What are dementors? What're they doing here?"

Hermione gasps at once, "We forgot to tell you! A dementor came into our carriage, almost got to Lupin before he cast a spell at it!"

"It was awful!" adds Ron, "Like all the warmth had been drained out, thought we were gonna get the Kiss!"

Seamus nods in agreement, "They passed by our carriage, it's awful. They looked like the Grim Reaper!"

"But what are they here for?" Harry pushes, "What do they do?"

"*A Dementor is a gliding, wraithlike Dark creature, widely considered to be one of the foulest to inhabit the world. Dementors feed on human happiness and thus generate feelings of depression and despair in any person in close proximity to them. They can also consume a person's soul, leaving their victims in a permanent vegetative state*…" Hermione starts speaking in the voice that meant she was quoting something verbatim, but she trails off when she notices some of the lower years staring at her in fear, whether in anticipation of the day when the would have to learn like that, or of the descriptive words themselves, Harry doesn't know. "What! I started to read about it as soon as we saw them on the train!"

"But that's like fourth year stuff!" Dean exclaims, looking mildly impressed- and scared.

"So I bought a couple years in advance! It pays to be prepared you know," she pushes her nose up in the air, "to answer your question, Harry, they're making sure Sirius Black doesn't come into the castle, he might be out for revenge, he might not even know you're, uhm, a ghost now."

He tilts his head and absentmindedly starts to bob up and down in his seat, "Who's Sirius Black?"

The rest of them exchange nervous glances, and Neville mumbled out a, "he didn't know?"

"Maybe it's best to tell ya in the common room, alright mate? Not exactly dinner talk," Ron says.

And he lets it drop, surely if it was that important someone would have told him sooner, (maybe not a little voice in his mind says, what about his parents? What about the Philosopher's Stone? Or Lupin?)

They tell him later, when they're close to the fire and the hum in the common room is loud enough to drown out anything unsavoury. Harry is shocked, enraged, wants to run out their and do something, but he can't. "Next time I won't be so self-sacrificing," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that?" Hermione asks.

"Oh, I was just wondering how if they were such close friends they would have turned on them.. I mean, you guys would never do that, would you?"

They shake their heads immediately, "of course now!" They chorus.

Ron adds, "Just shows how the Blacks will always be crazy!"

Harry doesn't question that, instead formulating to look it up later, to ask Lupin or Snape. (Maybe not Lupin, considering how close they are, so probably Snape). He might not have work to do anymore, but he knows they probably won't have read through the books for this years classes yet.

He moves on instead, "What are you doing in this years classes now? What have you all picked?"

He listens to them all each, noting Hermione has picked more subjects that her schedule would allow, and imagines he was alive, picking subjects with them, discussing how he wished he could drop Potions to avoid Snape. he lets the words sink into his brain and just be's.

PAGEBREAK

It's Halloween, and Harry is touring the castle. Drifting this way and that along the unlit corridors, he enjoys sometimes acting like a proper ghost, one that has been dead for centuries not months, it's almost fun, it a twisted kind of way. The Halloween feast is on, but they're arguing about Crookshanks and Scabbers, again. Since he doesn't actually eat, he skips the feast in favour of wandering the halls.

He's so lost in thought, he almost doesn't notice when he passes through a dog. Wait. A dog? Dogs weren't allowed pets? He's stopped halfway through the creature, who seems to have stopped dead at the sensation of a ghost.

"Who do you belong to?" He coos, moving backwards to look at them properly, he checks quickly, it's a him.

And he's a mess. Thick matted hair that would probably stink if he had a sense of smell, he seemed to be only skin and bones, his ribs stuck out far from under the skin from what he could see in the baldish patches over his body.

"Oh! You're a stray who wandered in!, aren't you a darling! What a handsome boy,do you want to get something to eat with me?" He holds out a hand, for the dog to sniff, regardless of the fact he doesn't have a sniff.

The dog is staring at him oddly, though his ears perked up at 'food', "yeah that's right!" He says in the same crooning voice, "let's go to the kitchens," he makes a clicking noise and started towards them, "come on! Yes!" The dog had started to pad forward cautiously. He'd found the kitchen by accident one day, falling through wall while exploring and startling the Elves. (Dobby was down there too. Now that situation was a mess).

Once he was confident the dog was trailing behind him, be it looking very confused, he started talking, hoping he'd calm down the anxious creature.

"What should we call you? You don't have a collar on so I bet you haven't had a name yet. How about… Scamp?" The dog shakes suddenly, making Harry laugh, "guess that's a no. Well, you're a dark dog, how about Ash? No, oh! I'm a Potter, so you should be Carpenter!" He giggles loudly at his own joke. He stopped when he realised the sound of claws on flagstone stopped.

"What? Do you like it? Do you… somehow recognise Potter? That's me, by the way, Harry Potter-" the dog whines loudly, barking furiously, "hey, hey! Calm down, Carpenter! What's the matter boy?"

Carpenter was staring at him, an inexplicable grief in his eyes, and if he was human, Harry was sure he would be crying. He crouched down, wishing he could stroke him, "what's the matter?"

What happens next is the most exciting thing that's happened to him since he died. Instead of a dog standing in front of him, there's a man, taller than Harry when floating, the same dirty matted hair, and heartbroken eyes, he's right, there are tears falling through the grime on his face. He's wearing the most disgusting robes Harry has ever seen, that show his skinniness as he takes a step forward and Harry shoots back up to a stand and takes a step back.

"Harry…", he's got a posh English accent that's gravely and raspy, as if he hasn't used it much. "Wha- what's happened to ya?"

Harry is too stunned to breathe out anything but a drawn out, "Cool".