A/N So.. I'm a little nervous about this one. It's very dialogue-y. Thank you to everybody for your support. Kudos goes to aliengirlguy and Sakura Lisel for point some plot holes out for me *hands out cookies* Anyway... this chapter was actually quite fun for me to write, and I'll be delighted to know if it was fun for you to read.

Disclaimer: In no way do I own any of the characters (apart from the ones you don't recognise from the books) or the Potter universe. So please don't say that I do. That is all JKR

~parseltongue~

'mind speak'

6. Security

Amazingly, Harry had made easy, almost effortless, progress in his research of Sirius Black's trial. This was quite possibly attributed to the fact that there hadn't been one. Harry snorted in disgust as he put aside the last of a stack of Daily Prophets containing little to no credible information concerning the arrest and incarceration of the last of the Black lineage.

It was the winter holidays and, contrary to usual; most of the student populace had opted to remain at the castle. Harry mused quietly at the fickle nature of teenagers, knowing full well that the girls had stayed purely to ogle the Durmstrang boys, and the boys to desperately try to capture the attention of the Beauxbaton faes.
Harry had better things to focus on, and getting through the second task was the least problematic of them.

Hedwig hooted what he assumed to be a rebuke from her perch beside him. He looked up at her and realised with a jolt that he had spent the better part of an hour sitting in the owlery reading through the large stack of newspaper reports that Hedwig had somehow managed to transport from the Daily Prophet's building in London. He smiled up at her apologetically, that owl was truly a saving grace, only ever looking out for Harry.

"Sorry girl, got a bit distracted, thank you for bringing these to me."

The great white owl ruffled her feathers and primly ignored Harry, who grinned in response. He always did feel lighter around Hedwig.

He shrank the stack of now useless newspapers beside him, placed them in his pocket, (he would not incinerate them for fear of angering his owl), slipped his usual mask back into place and wondered out of the tower.

After nearly an hour thinking on the subject, it was inevitable that his mind drifted back to Sirius Black. He couldn't help but compare his life to his own. Both had lost family that night, Black's honorary, but precious nevertheless. Both had lived in some form of prison, Harry's being the orphanage whilst Black rotted in Azkaban. Both had been failed by the wizarding world.

Harry wasn't sure how to react to the feelings of kinship that he was starting to associate with the fugitive.

He remembered exactly how it felt to be wrongly accused, to serve punishments for crimes he had not committed. The day before his eleventh birthday sprang to mind; the day he was, yet again, wrongly accused and punished: the day before he was rescued by magic.

He smiled as he remembered the elation he felt when he realised he had an escape route and finally, finally, he had a way to exact his vengeance upon those poor unsuspecting muggles.

A pity that Dumbledore had seen it fit to interfere with his life even during first year.

Begin Flashback

"Dear boy, please have a seat," the headmaster welcomed Harry into his office with an open smile and twinkling eyes, Harry was already beginning to hate those eyes, but he followed heedless of this and took the proffered seat in front of the headmaster's desk.

"Jellybaby?" Dumbledore asked, eyes flickering to the sweet bowl on his desk. Harry pretended to be too nervous to respond, shaking his head minutely.

"You have no reason to be nervous with me Harry. I don't bite, I assure you," the man chuckled at his own joke, Harry did his best to feign confusion, not difficult considering that he didn't know what the old man was getting at, and kept his mouth resolutely closed. The headmaster's laughter waned almost imperceptibly, but Harry, who was good at looking for such signs, took note of it.

"How are you faring after your little flying accident?" the headmaster tried a different approach to getting Harry to speak.

"I... don't like flying," Harry replied with a whimper, congratulating himself in both not answering the question, and making it impossible for the headmaster to press the issue. Although, his 'accident' had occurred over three weeks ago: which was long enough ago for Harry to know that it hadn't been intended as the main topic of conversation. He allowed himself to relax marginally; he had, as far as he knew, gotten away with it.

Dumbledore's expression softened, "of course not, best not to dwell on such things."

He looked up, curious, before blushing and lowering his gaze again. Idiot, he thought to himself, you know Dumbledore is a mind reader.

Since it is near the end of the year, I wanted to make a proposition to you," Dumbledore stopped, and was slightly put out when the boy didn't even look up at him, "concerning your home for the summer holidays," he added slightly grudgingly when the silence lasted an isntant too long.

"I get to see Claire, Peter and Andrew again!" Harry said, realising that the headmaster probably intended to move him to somewhere more 'suitable'. He cast a half hopeful, half excited look at the man.

"Well, actually, I was thinking perhaps you would do better with a proper family, your proper family, one who knows about the wizarding world," Dumbledore said with a pleased smile on his face.

Harry felt a sudden despair, "No!" he cried out loud, mouth working before his brain, belatedly he affected a sad expression, the desperation was real though, if he didn't go back to the orphanage he wouldn't get to punish any of them.

Dumbledore was quite rightly taken aback by the outburst, but not suspicious, from what he had gleaned from his deputy, the boy should be jumping for joy at the promise of living somewhere else. Then again, falling off his broom had left the child slightly touched in the head; maybe he was just afraid of change?

"You needn't worry my boy; this family knows of the wizarding world and has very kindly agreed to take you in, if only for the summer months. It's your mother's sister and her family, they will be kind to you," he said in a placating tone.

Harry did his best to tear up, "but, but I like my home!" he near wailed, standing up petulantly, "you can't take me away from them! You can't take me to strangers!"

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm sure they'll let you visit your old friends Harry, but you must understand that your position as the boy who lived puts you and your family at great risk."

This grabbed Harry's attention, and rather than losing it Dumbledore carried on, hoping to scare the boy into submission, "although you vanquished the Dark Lord ten years ago, many of his followers still remain, somehow managing to escape the ministry, and they are seeking your life in revenge for their master's fall. When your mother died, she placed you under the protection of a very old and powerful magic: we call it love. The safest place for you to be is with your family, where that magic will be renewed and kept strong. Do you understand me Harry?"

Harry's eyes bulged at the sudden intake of knowledge, he used the moments Dumbledore expected him to take to reason through his argument to focus in on one obvious hole. If this 'protection' really was that imperative to his survival, why wasn't he dead now, considering that he hadn't had this 'protection' for the entirety of his life? And the other was his lack of contact with any other magical being, much less one that wanted to cause him harm? The only explanation was that Dumbledore was lying, probably intentionally.

He couldn't point out these flaws though, the months of planning and practising would all go to waste if Harry acted as intelligent as he really was at this moment; simple Harry would not be able to see this argument. Harry had lost this little battle.

The weight of acceptance permeated the air, and Dumbledore took it to mean that the matter was settled.

"It has been arranged already," he said, pretending not to notice Harry's act of grief, "they will pick you up from King's Cross station when the train arrives. Well done for understanding these necessary precautions. Now, back to your studies."

Harry seethed, it was their first confrontation; and Harry had lost.

End Flashback

Harry still seethed, both at the needlessness of it and Dumbledore's ideas of 'kind relatives'. It had taken Harry less than four hours to grow tired of the Dursely's constant debasing treatment of him, so all the punishments he had originally planned for his tormentors at the orphanage were instead used to punish his tormenters in Little Whinging. None of the spells were very dark, nor were they advanced or dangerous, really, they were first year level. Harry had read about the tracking spells that the Ministry employed on underage wizard's wands after all.

When a very stern looking Professor McGonagall had shown up at the door, he had sheepishly told her that he had forgotten about the underage magic laws. She had seemed content to just leave it at that.

It had been worth it.

It took a while for Harry to notice that he had stopped moving. Some part of him knew he was standing just outside the room of requirement again. Half-heartedly cursing Hogwart's sentient nature he paced back and forth as Dobby had described to open the room.

He stood for a moment in the entranceway, contemplating the man in the box, before wishing for a chair and walking over to it. The door closed behind him as he sat himself down.

Black was sat in a way reminisce of a muggle yoga position, he looked peaceful, despite the gauntness of his cheeks, the sharp detail of ribs protruding from his chest that were just visible under the collection of rags he was wearing. He felt a shot of guilt, he had forgotten to tell Dobby that he was to feed the man, Black was probably starving. But he didn't look much worse than when Harry had first locked him away, maybe he was used to the treatment in Azkaban, he mused.

Harry near hissed as he completed his once over at the product of Dumbledore's meddling. He was fairly certain that the wily old headmaster was the reason Black had never gotten a trial. He felt a sudden urge to avenge Black's treatment as well as his own. He squashed that idea as soon as he had thought it. Why should he do anything for Black? He didn't know a whit about him yet, and from what he had learned of blood lineage, he knew that the Blacks were a very ancient and powerful house, one that always sided with the dark. He shuddered as he remembered some of the accounts of Black's cousin, Bellatrix, and some of the atrocities she committed during the war.

"Hello?"

Harry's eyes focused immediately, he was mildly surprised to find Black looking unerringly at him, even though Harry knew for certain that he couldn't see him.

"I know there's someone there, has been for quite a while. I've just spent thirteen years surrounded by bloody dementors, so I bloody well know you're watching me!"

Oh, how the mighty have fallen, "I thought pureblooded wizards were bought up to speak in a manner befitting their station," said Harry matter of factly, speaking with something very close to his true voice.

"You sound far too young to worry yourself with such idiocies notions as blood supremacy," retorted Black with a hard glint in his eyes.

"There is no age restriction to being concerned with the state of our world, Mr. Black," said Harry drily. There wasn't anything specific he wanted of Black at this moment in time, so he decided to humour the man, even if it meant talking about things as tedious as idealism.

Black seemed to take that in before his face drained of blood, "you sound so much like him.." he whispered. Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, content to wait for the man to elaborate.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" came the next shout from the incarcerated man, to which Harry's other eyebrow joined the first in shock, "you let me out of here right now!" Black was standing now, eyes ablaze with anger and... something else. Harry just stared awhile, puzzled, before finally realising that Black must have heard his voice and thought it similar, presumably, to his father's.

Harry's eyes hardened, "Your little display has made me rather disinclined grant your request," he said in an even tone. Harry didn't like where the conversation was headed, he then thought it might be an opportunity to see how much information Black could provide him with, instead of flipping the conversation onto a different topic with the same end point. He would have to play a little ignorant in order to ascertain how truthful Black would be with his answers. He would also have to be careful; Black had just proved his talent for piecing clues together in identifying Harry.

"I think it is owed to me," he said in a firm voice, effectively silencing whatever Black was going to shout at him next, "that you answer at least some of my questions."

Black was desperately trying to see through the mirror that Harry had conjured on the inside of his box, upon seeing no weakness he slumped back down to the floor.

"Let me see your face at least," he tried miserably.

Harry considered, "why should I allow a pathetic excuse for a traitor anything he asks for?" he replied in a cold voice.

"I... traitor!?" Sirius fumed, then suddenly desperate again, "Harry, you have to believe me. I did not betray your parents! How could I? They were probably -. No, they were the best thing that ever happened to me."

Black's voice was so sincere and held such conviction that Harry very nearly forgot about his desire to uncover the truth, instead wanting to give the man the comfort and benefit of the doubt that he himself had always longed for as a child. He ruthlessly hardened his heart.

"I did not give you permission to use my given name Black, nor do I have to do anything you ask of me," Harry grabbed the unwanted emotions and threw them into an imaginary box in his mindscape along with all the other emotions that he didn't want to look into.

"Please, I," Black seemed to gather himself up enough to stop begging, "I'm your godfather. I only want what's best for you; it's all I've ever wanted. Let me see your face, just so I can look into your eyes and you can see for yourself that when I tell you that I loved your parents, love you more than anything else in this world, that I'm telling the truth."

Well, Harry had certainly not been expecting such an impassioned speech from the man. Nor could he puzzle out exactly why Black was saying what he was saying. His mind was still not quite convinced that Black really wasn't the enemy, because if he wasn't, then why had he come to Hogwarts?

'Because he loves you'

Harry felt a strange warmth spread through his body at Chiana's words, it was yet another feeling that Harry shoved into his box. 'Where are you? I thought you were hunting.'

'I am, master,' Harry didn't know why, but the snake sounded inordinately smug to him.

'Because I've just told you the very thing you've longed to hear for most of your life.'

'I do not –'

'Even if you refuse to accept it.'

The last was said partly in sorrow and partly in annoyance, and a moment later Harry could no longer feel his familiar's presence in his mind. What had bought that on? Chiana very rarely got upset with him, and the fact that she had now, over something so inconsequential, did not sit well with Harry.

He hadn't gone through his life wishing that somebody would love him, as a child he had wanted a family. He still did, to some extent. But really, he knew, all he wanted was to feel that little bit of acceptance, acknowledgement for what he was, his achievements. He shook his head, disgusted with himself; such weakness was below him. They were below him. He could already hear the condescending words from Rasp if he ever admitted these feelings to him.

"Explain," the word came out a bit harsher than Harry had intended. Black jumped slightly at the cutting quality of the voice after the brief reprieve. He also failed to respond. Harry, slightly irate already thanks to Chiana's words, wordlessly ended the mirror charm on the inside of Black's cell in retaliation.

Black whirled around so quickly inside the cell that Harry was surprised he managed to stay on his feet. He smirked to himself; he had the advantage now that Black had been thrown off balance by the sudden change in environment.

Black stared hopefully at him, "James-"

"Harry," Harry corrected firmly, "I am not my father, I didn't know my father, I implore you not to mistake us again. Now, I ask you again: explain."

Grief and recognition flashed in Black's eyes before they grew slightly distant, "I... meant to go back for you, you know," he started, and Harry didn't know how to respond when he saw tears forming under the man's eyes, "I promised I'd come back for you."

Harry quickly regained himself and slipped on the Slytherin mask: it would best allow him to deal with the situation rationally. It was only after he had settled when he realised the implications of the man's words.

"You," he started disbelievingly, "you were the one who left me in the orphanage!" One look at Black's pained expression and he knew it to be true.

"Only for the night!" he said with desperate sadness and guilt, "it was only meant to be for the night! I didn't want you to see what I was going to do to Pettigrew; you were only a baby after all"

Harry choked, he had always wondered who had left him in such a miserable place, learning that he had disappeared from the wizarding world the night of his parent's deaths had only made him more curious. He was about to squeeze the guilt that Black obviously felt at his actions when he remembered the Dursely's, he shuddered to think of what life would have been like if he had actually grown up around his gluttonous uncle and cousin.

"Pettigrew?" he asked sharply, eager to find out more about the last Marauder, "what had he to do with this?"

Black's expression grew frighteningly dark when he heard the name; Harry recognised it as the one he used to don whenever he used to think about Black, except Black's was also laced with guilt and personal betrayal.

"Pettigrew," the name was practically spat, and Black's gaze was fixed firmly upon the floor, "was the one to betray Lily and James."

The man took a few drawn breaths before carrying on, also giving Harry a chance to mull over his words, "I told them both to make Peter the secret keeper. I was the obvious choice of course, everybody knew I was one of James' best friends, so the Dark Lord would suspect me immediately. No one would think of Peter."

Harry had to admit that the logic made sense, but it was something that Black could quite easily have made up to cover his tracks. He decided to try and cut deeper.

"So you left me in an orphanage to track and kill Pettigrew?" he asked in a derisory tone of understanding. He felt a small sense of satisfaction when Black deflated somewhat. Wanting more of the satisfaction Harry carried on.

"If you really cared about James and Lily that much then surely you would have cared about me, their son, more than a filthy little traitorous bastard that you were foolish enough to befriend!"

Black looked as if he was about to be physically sick.

"Oh yes, Black! Congratulations for formulating a foolhardy plan to exact your revenge on your former best friend which, naturally, held more importance than I could ever hope for!" Harry couldn't stop; it's as if he'd opened the flood gates to a dam of emotions that he wasn't aware had been building up.

He remembered every childish notion of his parents saving him, every dream that someone who cared about him would rescue him, all the things he put up with staying in the orphanage because someone would save him and it would all be worth it. The agony of shattering dreams when he found out about the wizarding world, about the Dark Lord, had nearly made him scream in his room above the Leaky Cauldron after his first visit to Diagon Alley. Knowing now that Black had placed his revenge first and Harry second... and he hadn't even accomplished his goal, that Harry's suffering had been for nothing, made the pain all the more unbearable.

"It's all your FAULT!" he screamed in pain, grief and righteous anger before his mind could stop him, "you forgot to think about the fucking consequences of killing someone in plain sight!" Harry was breathing heavily, and was relishing the obvious pain he was causing his godfather.

"Who's laughing now, Sirius Orion Black?" Contrary to before, each word was said coldly and mockingly, better to hear, better to condemn, "Because I know for a fact that you didn't manage to kill him. He got a away, minus, of course, a little finger; not only giving him an escape route, but also sealing your own fate as well as my own! Oh yes, you're definitely the winner in this little fiasco."

The only noise in the room was the resounding mock applause from Harry. Each hand clap seemed to have the effect of a physical slap on Black. On edge, Harry flopped back onto his chair, casting the mirror spell at Black with little thought, unable to stand the idea that Black could see him, thinking to calm down.

A moment later he cast a silencing charm on himself. Then he let himself breathe as harshly and deeply as he liked, he did refuse, however, to let himself be reduced to a sobbing mess. He angrily forbade moisture to gather in his eyes and forced the sobs back down into his gut. It was a moment longer before he had enough control of himself to wordlessly lift the silencing charm.

He drank in the silence.

"You... have every right to hate me." Black's voice was hesitant, mournful. Harry bit his tongue, not trusting himself to speak just yet, nor to look at the man. He had already revealed too much when he told Black that he knew Pettigrew was still alive.

Black seemed to take the silence as acquiescence to carry on talking, "I can't tell you how appalled I am with myself, how sorry that I've done this to you."

Harry's only action was to steeple his fingers, returning his gaze back to Black. His voice was starting to waver.

"You must understand-"

"Must I?" Harry echoed, yet again catching Black by surprise. There was a pause before the man continued.

"James and Lily were two of my closest friends, they were like family to me, more than family to me."

"They were my family," Harry cut in quietly.

Black chose to ignore him and continued to growl out his explanation, "My thought processes when I realised that Peter had betrayed us all weren't exactly rational."

~Stop acting like a sulking hatchling~

Surprised, Harry looked down to find Rasp observing him from the arm of his chair. Harry bristled at the rebuke ~I am not acting like a child!~ he hissed out in response.

~Your petulant manner and blatant ignorance of your surroundings disprove your statement~

The snake put a stop to Harry's argument with a disapproving glare. Harry knew he was only arguing for the sake of argument, he knew Rasp to be right, both in his rebuke and to rebuke him.

~If you want to find out something of use, stop trying to make him hate you~

Harry made himself look into Rasp's unrelenting eyes, although the snake was not nearly as talkative and friendly as Chiana, his words were always worth listening to, in fact, it would be near disastrous not to listen to him.

~Use them, don't let them use me~ Harry said. The phrase had become something of a motto and a sign of understanding between the two of them. The snake nodded slightly and looked towards Black as if to say 'go on then.' Harry swallowed the urge to blame and cause pain.

"I... understand where you must be coming from," Harry said softly, and delicately framing the word 'understand' whilst adding a note of hesitancy to his voice, as if he were coming to terms with Black's words.

Black's eyes seemed to pierce straight through the mirror, ~hide~ Harry whispered to Rasp, who promptly disappeared into his sleeve. Once again, he cast the counter to his mirror charm and stood up.

"What do you want from me?" Black asked, he seemed completely crushed. Harry wasn't surprised, he himself was feeling the effects of such an emotionally aggravating conversation, and Black had had thirteen years in an Azkaban cell on top of that. It was a wonder he had retained any mental function at all.

Somehow, Harry knew that being somewhat honest with Black now would not only gain him a vital source of information now, but if he played his cards right, an incredibly powerful ally in the future.

"First, I simply wanted to make you pay for betraying my parents, but now?" he saw Black flinch, "I just want a family, a place where I belong. Where I don't have to hide," he met Black's eyes at that point. After a moment he saw the acceptance that he knew his words would induce.

He felt the room changing around him as he conjured up the feeling on home, comfort and luxury. The walls changed from a bare grey to being covered with ornate tapestries, furniture appeared out of nowhere as the room morphed into a sizeable apartment. The predominant colours were blue, green with tasteful hints of silver. The box surrounding Black disappeared and Harry absentmindedly wondered if he should have extracted an unbreakable vow before releasing Black from his confines.

That Black didn't rush for the door gave Harry a small modicum of relief.

"The Room of Requirement," Black stated, wonderstruck, as his eyes took in the room, "we used to think it was nothing more than a myth, James, Remus and I."

"You weren't given a trial," Harry stated, not wanting to waste the truth-telling atmosphere that they had created in the past half an hour, and hoping that Black would elaborate on his sentence.

The other man grimaced meekly at the fireplace that had appeared in one wall, "I think the ministry was overwhelmed by the sudden influx of accused death eaters being bought in when after the Dark Lord's demise. They didn't have time to go through all the proper procedures, besides, it didn't look like my guilt was questionable; there were dozens of witnesses, and only one bit left of Peter."

Harry wondered about that, "But Dumbledore must have known you were innocent, why didn't he do anything?"

"I doubt he was able to do much, the wizarding world was in chaos, and desperately wanted to put the war behind them," Black then looked to the ceiling, which Harry took to mean that he was not the only one the man was trying to convince with his argument, "besides, the change in secret keeper was a very last minute decision, I'm not even sure that Dumbledore knew that we had done it. He probably did think that I was the traitor, and not Peter."

Harry decided to keep his thoughts on Dumbledore to himself; it was obvious that Black, despite everything, still held an undue amount of respect and regard for the man.

"Do you still want to kill him?" he asked, slightly curious himself. Black looked up sharply.

"Do you?"

Well, that was a dangerous question.

"I want my parents to be avenged, I feel as if I at least owe them that."

Harry hoped that his answer was ambiguous enough not to alienate his... godfather. Black nodded his understanding.

"As do I, for failing them."

The room fell silent as Black contemplated Harry, and Harry contemplated Black.

"What... what was it like in Azkaban?" he asked, a slight childish lilt to his voice. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he felt Rasp tighten warningly around his upper arm.

~Don't worry, I know what I'm doing~ he reassured the snake quietly.

~Good, because I don't~ came the almost inaudible reply.

From what he knew about the man, he would have been amused at how easy it was to manipulate Sirius Black. But as it was Sirius Black, he was anything but amused. Black's whole body had stiffened and he was looking imploringly at Harry. Harry's face remained expressionless, and his lips sealed.

As he hoped, Black seemed to gather strength from Harry's Slytherin mask. His posture relaxed and his eyes softened from dread to curiosity.

"It was a bad time; I have no wish to burden you with the memory of it."

Harry allowed himself a small smile, the man had passed his first small little test. Perhaps having Black on his side, not as a friend, as Harry did not allow himself to have such things as friends, would not end in disaster after all. If the man relearned how to school his emotions and reclaimed his mind, Harry would even consider sharing some of his secrets in return for knowledge previously exclusive to the Black family.

"And how has the world treated you these past thirteen years?" Black asked, no longer a pathetic excuse for a man, but a Lord recovering from a horrific past thirteen years. The turnaround in questioning meant that the man was quick to recover, learn and adapt. Harry very lost himself: Sirius Black had once been a formidable opponent. He paused, pondering how to answer the question, what type of reaction he wanted and exactly how much to divulge.

Harry knew from various sources that his father, this man's former best friend had been somewhat of a joker. Well, that much was evident in their names: Prongs, Moony, Padfoot and Wormtail? So the most obvious, not to mention safest, thing to do was to emulate his father, but it wouldn't do to make Black think that he was carbon copy, Snape had already taught him the dangers of him and his father being perceived to be the same entity. He really didn't like being punished for somebody else's wrongdoings, especially if they occurred nearly a decade before he was born. So, considering that all accounts of James Potter and the Potter family agreed that they were all faultless paragons of light, he would hint at some of his darker tendencies.

"Well, I was raised in that same hellish orphanage you left me in, bullied right up to when McGonagall came to take me to Hogwarts." Harry opted for brutal honesty, little detail and speed, all indicative of someone who was rather laid back, or no longer cared, "I took control of my Gringotts account, realised I knew nothing of the wizarding world and took it upon myself to make sure I was well educated by the time I actually entered the school.

From there I, admittedly after a small blip at the beginning of first year, made sure that I kept myself in the shadows and head down as much as possible. I foiled the Dark Lord's attempt to retrieve the Philosopher's stone in my first year, oh and I learned basic occlumency and dark arts, the next year I arranged for the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets to be vanquished and the memory of one Tom Marvolo Riddle to be permanently laid to rest, saving a first year in the process. During third year I made leaps and bounds in all fields of magic, Hogwarts curricular and not, as well as some small successes in wordless and even wandless magic. This year I've been roped into participating in the Tri-Wizard tournament, intended for sixth and seventh years, I'm still working on the last. I think that just about covers everything. Oh wait, I've done all that without people actually realising that I'm doing it, well... apart from this year I suppose."

Harry finished off his narrative with a matter of fact expression and a slightly excessive flourish. He kept his face serious and Black's eyes ogled, eyebrows retreated to his hairline and jaw refused to close.

~Leave him at that child, you want to make sure he believes what you tell him, although telling him in the first place still seems foolish to me~ the snake's discontent with not understanding his motives amused Harry slightly, but as always he noticed the ring of truth in his companion's words.

Taking advantage of Black's incapacity to talk, Harry changed appearances completely, straightening his back and removing all expression from his face, a picture of deadly seriousness.

"This room is probably the safest place for you at this moment in time. I can't tell you how foolish you were to come into Hogwarts itself, even if most of the staff would be distracted with the Yule Ball. The fact that you were caught by mere third and fourth year students is evidence enough of that. I implore you not to leave this room. See this as an opportunity to rest up and enjoy a true safe haven until you are recovered. I will send up an elf with food and restorative potions at regular intervals. Give him any requests you may have and I will act upon them as I see fit."

Harry's tone was non-negotiable and his eyes held a clear warning to obey his rules; he did not trust Black enough to not run straight to Dumbledore as soon as he left the room, especially with the secrets he had just revealed to him. He was effectively placing Black under house arrest, the house elf would double as a guard and Harry would be the gaoler. It was definitely a step backwards in gaining Black's trust, but it was a necessary one, and it wasn't as if Harry wasn't confident that he could recover the lost ground during the next meeting.

He didn't wait for Black's reply as he exited the room. He debated with himself for a moment before replacing an out of curriculum locking charm with the simple wish that the room would be inescapable for Black. He nodded in satisfaction as the door melted away, leaving behind solid stone. Just to make doubly sure, he placed several alarms around the walls: if Black got out, he would know about it.

"Dobby," he called out.

The elf appeared instantly, "Yes, Harry Potter," he said, giving a small bow.

"Make sure the inhabitant of this room is well looked after, he may require some potions, I'm sure you can identify which ones, as well as the usual necessities... food, drink, clean clothes. If he voices any requests to you I must ask that you pass them on to me."

"Dobby understands."

"Good, and Dobby," Harry called.

"Yes Harry Potter," the elf's voice was steady.

"I trust that we'll be keeping this to ourselves," he said with a friendly smile.

Dobby replied with a small, nearly feral, grin, "of course Harry Potter, it shall be Dobby's and yours's little secret."

A/N Well.. don't expect an update that quick again, this one nearly killed me! But the muse struck and I had no option but to write. Thanks for reading, and feel free to review and/or get in touch. I love to hear your views!

I'm thinking of putting in a filler chapter in next (in the form of Harry talking more indepth about his life to Sirius (the sarcastic one in this chapter is meant to be a little precursor - Sirius will undoubtedly have lots of questions). It won't be necessary to the plot, but will clear up any questions and loopholes that you might have thought of. So, if anyone has anything they want explaining, please say.

Sorry for the massive note at the end..

apisci