Chapter 15: Unexpected

From then on, Adrienne seemed more sociable. She wasn't completely open, but she was different and Harry enjoyed spending time with her. He wasn't sure of their social status—whether they were romantically involved, good friends, or merely companions. They hadn't kissed since their first, nor had they spoken about it. For the time being, they were content in each other's company.

Ron and Hermione were still having the pointless dispute, so Harry spent more and more of his time with Adrienne. They spent time away from prying eyes—supply closets, by the lake, the Gryffindor Common Room at its most vacant time, the dead of night. On this particular night, they were in the latter location, passing the time by talking.

"I've never known this kind of freedom," Adrienne admitted in a burst of unexpected candor.

"What?"

"This." She gestured to the space between them. Thinking that sufficed, she did not utter another word of clarification. "It's nice," she sighed, closing her eyes. At this, Harry offered to conjure up hot chocolate, to which she agreed with a nod. When he handed her mug to her still body, he realized she was fast asleep. He fell asleep next to her.

Hours later—or maybe minutes—Harry awoke to the sensation of choking. Wildly, still half-asleep, his hands went automatically to his neck—but the feeling had vanished.

Adrienne thrashed wildly beside him, jerking violently in her sleep. Her eyes never opened, but her arms flailed, her legs kicked, and her face contorted into unimaginable grimaces. The only thing she spoke was "No," a desperate moan murmured over and over.

Panicking, Harry touched her shoulder. "Addy," he said. "Adrienne, wake up. Wake up!" He shook her shoulders and did not stop until she awoke.

Hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, her skin gone white, panted. It took a moment for her eyes to stop rolling and return to normal.

"Bloody hell," Harry commented. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him for a while until something registered. She looked as if she was going to be sick and throw up the contents of her soul.

"Oh no," she moaned, and ran from the room.

"Where were you all night?" Sirius demanded when Harry returned to the Room of Requirement as the sun's rays began to break the ice of the stone castle.

"In… the Common Room," Harry said, surprised at Sirius' reaction and purposely omitting the part about his early-morning walk.

"Well, in the future, at least let me know if you're not coming home, okay? I was worried."

There wasn't anxiety in his face, but Harry believed him. Sometimes you believe what you have to, but he knew it was true. The parental protection had struck a chord with Harry, bringing back some of the old Sirius. Harry smiled as hope rose in his chest.

Home, Harry thought. He said home.

Dear Harry,

I've never felt this way before. It's amazing to have a friend, someone to whom you can tell everything. But I haven't been completely honest with you. I don't know if I ever will. I love what we have—it's amazingly forbidden and sweet. But I'm afraid that I'll end up hurting you. I've never had something like this before, and it's inevitable.

Dear Harry,

I can't believe we kissed. I didn't think I would ever kiss anyone. Sometimes I doubted I would even live long enough to. I still feel guilty sometimes, but that guilt is worth what I'm feeling right now.

Dear Harry,

My fears have been confirmed. I don't want you hurt, or worse. I've gotten emotionally involved; something my father told me never to do. After all those years of horror, I don't listen to him and this is what happens. I'm going to hurt you, Harry. I don't know how or when, and I don't ever want to hurt you. I'm too scared to stay in this relationship, and I'm too scared to get out. I don't want to lose what I have, and it seems both ways I will.

The raven-haired girl put her quill aside and closed the notebook that contained bound pages. Tears filled her gray eyes for the second time in her life. She pulled out a knife.

"You're lucky you at least have a father, and a home to go to," Harry was saying. "I never had either."

Adrienne shook her head emphatically. "You have Ron and Hermione. They're your family. You don't want what I have."

"Why not?"

She shook her head again, this time with less vigor. "You don't. I don't have a family. I don't have parents, and I never knew any. I never had a home, either. At least you know what it feels like."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "Did something happen? What about your dad?"

She simply shook her head. "Let's talk about something else. How is N.E.W.T. training going?"

Harry groaned and Adrienne laughed. "Exhausting. And yourself? Hey, you never told me what you were working towards."

"My future was set from the moment my mother was pregnant. I never once questioned it." This was a lie, but it was so close to the truth she let it go. "But recently hearing you talk so passionately about being an Auror has made me think about being one, too."

"My parents were Aurors," Harry said quietly. "I never wanted to be anything else." Adrienne patted his arm sympathetically in silence. "Say," Harry said. "You never told me about what your father did."

"He's… not an Auror," Adrienne said, and laughed, but Harry thought he detected a touch of bitterness in her voice. "He runs a bookstore," she blurted out quickly. She looked surprised that it had come from her, and a faint pink crept into her cheeks.

When Harry returned to the Room of Requirement, the living room was empty and quiet, so he assumed Sirius had stepped out to grab some lunch. He dropped his book bag and pulled out his heavy Defense Against the Dark Arts book, determined to receive top marks on the next test. As he studied hexes and defenses, a thud sounded from Sirius' adjoining bedroom. His head snapped up and turned to face the open door.

"Sirius?" he called tentatively. "Is that you?" When there was no reply, he stood up and pulled out his wand. "Sirius?" He edged t o the bedroom. When he saw Sirius' tangled mop of hair and the back of his robes, he relaxed. "Oh," Harry said. "Were you here the whole time?"

But when Sirius turned, his eyes were haunted. His face was disbelieving. Harry turned his gaze downward, to the end of Sirius' wand and then to the floor. A squat man in brown robes lay facedown on the carpet of Sirius' room. Harry knelt beside him, wand poised, and pulled back his hood. He gasped with recognition when he saw the man's face.

"Merlin's beard," Harry breathed. "Get Dumbledore." When Sirius stared blankly at him, he swore. "Get Hedwig!"

He scribbled a message to Dumbledore and tied it to her leg, all the while crooning softly about speed and urgency.

After Hedwig had taken off, Harry sat down on Sirius' bed, never taking his eyes off the unconscious man in front of him. He would sit here until Dumbledore arrived. He was not going to let him escape.

"Who is he?" Sirius asked, gesturing toward the man on his floor.

Harry looked up at Sirius in wonderment. "Peter Pettigrew."

Sirius and Harry sat awkwardly in Dumbledore's office, stiff and formal. They were awaiting Dumbledore's re-entry, Sirius out of place and confused, and Harry bewildered and a little relieved and still frustrated that Sirius couldn't remember Peter Pettigrew, whom he'd hated for fourteen years. A man who stole his life and then his revenge from him—and Sirius had not one recollection of him.

"What happened?" Harry asked softly, choosing to yield to his curiosity instead of the many other emotions coursing through him.

"I was lying on my bed," Sirius said, still slightly disbelieving and dazed. "I suppose I looked asleep. I don't know. I was reading. I heard something come in through the window. A man said something and I suppose I blocked the spell. I just turned and said something and a red jet of light came out of my wand and knocked his green light off course. He looked surprised when he saw me, and then… I Stunned him."

Harry's face lit up. "You remember spells?"

Sirius shook his head thickly. "They just… came. I didn't understand them even after I said them." Harry still looked hopeful. Then Sirius gave him a gift. "I will remember them, though. I will."

"What I don't understand," Ron was saying, through a mouthful of dinner as usual, "is why Pettigrew tried to attack Sirius. I mean, they didn't know he was alive, right?"

With a flick of her wand, Hermione sealed Ron's mouth closed. They had made up, but Hermione, true to her nature, was not lenient. "Chew with your mouth closed, Ron." Then she added, "Maybe someone told Voldemort."

"But who? Only the three of us knew, and Dumbledore, and probably the teachers… and what reason would Voldemort have for attacking Sirius? I can see Pettigrew wanting to stop Sirius from getting his revenge, but he didn't know Sirius was here. News of Sirius would have had to come from inside the castle, and none of the Slytherins knew. Who else would have access to Voldemort but Slytherin?"

"What about Adrienne?" Ron asked, having swallowed.

"Well… she knows," said Harry. "But she wouldn't say anything. Why would she? And how would she?"

"I don't know, Harry," said Hermione, skeptical. "She is in Slytherin for a reason, isn't she? And no one else knows; at least no one we can think of. How do you know you can trust her?"

"You don't know her!" Harry exploded. "She wouldn't turn Sirius in! She wouldn't! Besides, how could she be in contact with Voldemort?"

"All right, all right," Ron said, unwilling to begin another fight. "Let's leave her out of this. Somehow Voldemort found out. Why would he want Sirius?"

None of them had an answer.

"Maybe it wasn't Voldemort who sent Pettigrew," said Hermione slowly. "I know I'm going out on a limb here, but I can't think of anything else. What if, maybe… Bellatrix Lestrange told Pettigrew to kill Sirius, to finish the job?"

"But would she want to do it herself?" Harry inquired. "She seems to me like she'd be pretty stubborn about finishing what she started, especially since she's related to Sirius."

The three chewed over this thought in silence.

That night, Harry couldn't sleep. He burned some of his restlessness by studying for his N.E.W.T.s, but that became boring within the hour and he still wasn't any closer to falling asleep.

There was a tap at the window. Startled, Harry jumped before realizing it was an owl. He lifted the latch to permit the tawny owl. It dropped a folded piece of parchment into Harry's hand in an official manner before taking off into the night.

Harry unfolded parchment. It read, in a familiar script:

Harry and Sirius,

I have spoken to the Minister, and with the capture of Peter Pettigrew, he has agreed to allow Sirius to go free. Congratulations, Sirius. You are officially a free man.

If either of you need anything, I will be in my office.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

The news didn't make Harry as joyful as it should have. He was glad Sirius was free, but he had been too preoccupied lately with Sirius' memory to really think of Sirius as a convict.

Harry left the note somewhere Sirius could find it, thinking it better if he explained the news to Sirius personally if Sirius didn't chance to stumble upon the letter. Grabbing a coat, Harry scrawled in the air with his wand where Sirius wouldn't miss his message: Out. Back before morning. Harry.

Ten minutes later, he found himself on the Hogwarts grounds near the lake. He clutched his Potions notes in his hand, thinking he might study once he relaxed a bit. Approaching the lake, dappled with moonlight, he sat with his back against an oak tree and pulled out his notes.

The sound of breaking water, faint but detectable, sounded from the lake. Harry turned quickly, fumbling for his wand, and was surprised to find Adrienne standing knee-deep in the icy water. She was wearing only her undergarments and her hair was fused to her skin.

Harry quickly averted his eyes, but as he did so he noticed long stars crisscrossing her stomach and thighs, visible in the moonlight.

"Age," he croaked. "What happened?"

She tried to say something, maybe answer his question, but her mouth was sealed from the chill of the lake. She tried to step out of the lake, but she was frozen.

"What were you thinking?" Harry cried. He splashed into the lake, scooped her up and set her by the oak tree. He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her thin, almost translucent body. Now that she was out of the direct moonlight, Harry noticed that her pale skin had a definite blue tinge to it.

"Sit," he commanded. She obeyed and he mimicked her, sitting beside her shivering form. "This might hurt," he said, and generated a heating spell. He was careful to warm her body slowly.

When the numbness left and she was only slightly cold, Harry demanded, "Now what the hell was that?"

"I went for a swim."

"In a lake that's colder than ice in the dead of night?"

"Yes. I needed… to feel the cold."

"Age," he sighed. He didn't know what to say. "Don't do that."

"You can't tell me what I can and can't do, Harry. I don't need you doing that, too." She peeled off his jacket and went to retrieve her clothes from the bank. As light struck her leg, Harry noticed a fresh gash above her knee. It was only trickling, as the icy water had clotted most of the wound. He pondered it as she pulled on her clothes.

"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing, when she returned. She glanced down at her leg. "I guess I cut it on a rock or something in the lake."

Harry shook his head. "It's too clean a cut to have come from anything in there. Age, come on. Tell me."

"I don't know how it happened, Harry! Just let it go. It's almost stopped bleeding."

"What are those scars from?" he asked, not giving up.

"None of your business, Harry! None of your goddamn business!"

She ran back to the castle barefoot. Harry couldn't be sure if she was crying. He gathered his stuff, went back to the Room of Requirement, erased the message with a flick of his wand, and went to sleep.

Harry spent his time studying for Potions. It was his weakest subject and one N.E.W.T. he could not mess up. He had the company of Hermione and Ron while studying, Ron's however reluctantly.

"Can't we take a break yet?" he asked miserably. "Go flying or something?"

"We've only been studying for fifteen minutes, Ron," said Hermione irritably.

But Ron's question had upset something in Harry. After toying with the idea in his mind, he closed his book and stood up.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked. Harry grabbed his broom.

"See you later," he said. He rapped his knuckles on Sirius' bedroom door. "Sirius!" he shouted. "Grab your broom. We're going flying." Sirius opened the door, a look of surprise on his face and a broom in his hand.

Harry was excited as he raced through the halls and down the stairs of Hogwarts, Sirius at his side. He could hear blood pounding in his head—thick, slow beats. He might have even gotten to fly if he hadn't passed the girls' bathroom when he did.

A soft wail emanated from behind the thick door. He froze in his tracks, torn between his natural impulse to help and the need to fly through the crisp March air. Dropping his broom, he pushed open the door.

"Harry, that's the girls'—" He could hear Sirius' voice fading behind him.

He found Adrienne clutching a blood-soaked knife, her knuckles white, almost glowing, with tension. Blood spouted from her arm. Harry raced to her, tripping over something as he did so, probably his own foot. He grabbed her bleeding arm.

"What the hell are you doing!" he roared. He pulled out his wand, intending to seal the wound. Adrienne pushed his arm away. "What—"

"Get it out, get it out!" she cried, staring at the stream flowing from her arm.

"Get what out?" What?" Harry peered at the wound, but he could see nothing that wasn't supposed to be there.

"The blood," she cried. "His blood."

"Whose?" Harry asked. When she didn't answer, he pointed his wand at her arm again. She grabbed his wand and threw it across the room. It hit the floor with a cracking noise. Harry panicked. She clutched his arm with a unique ferocity.

"It has to come out," she hissed. Harry winced from the pain.

A spark was ejected from her hand and she reeled back. Turning, Harry saw Sirius standing beside him, his wand hand outstretched, fingers clasping the wood. Sirius threw a familiar stick to Harry. He caught it.

"It's not broken," Sirius said.

With relief, Harry grabbed Adrienne's arm. "Is it out?" Harry asked, not knowing what he was referring to. When she only cried, tears spilling now, he asked, "Is it out? Okay if I fix it?" She didn't respond, so Harry sealed the wound. He could only see the raging insanity in her eyes.

After a visit to the hospital wing to make sure blood poisoning hadn't been induced, the weight of the situation settled over Adrienne and Harry like a thick cloud, a pregnant silence filling the air.

"Why are you hurting yourself?" Harry asked softly.

"I'm not," came the reply. Harry glanced at her. "I'm not," she insisted. "I'm not hurting. I'm helping. I'm fixing, I'm healing, I'm curing—"

"Why? What needs fixing?"

She looked directly at him. "Everything," she whispered.

"Age, why won't you tell me?" Frustrated, Harry continued, "What needs to be fixed? Why deathly swims? Whose blood?"

"His."

"Whose? Damn it, tell me!"

"I can't." Her voice cracked.

"Why not? Who is he? Your father?" She didn't reply, but Harry knew the answer. "Adrienne, he's miles away from the castle! How could he be hurting you still? I knew you didn't like him, but I didn't know things were this bad!"

"That's just it! You don't know! You don't know anything about me because you were never interested enough!"

Harry was taken aback. "How can you say I'm not interested? I was interested enough to tell you everything. You know everything about me."

"That's the problem," she said sorrowfully.

Harry turned and left. He thought he heard her calling to him to wait. Or maybe it was the echo of his footsteps on the stone.

He was dreaming of things he could not understand—a black dog, a Quidditch uniform. A boy that looked almost identical to Harry, except a little more filled out, and he knew it was not Harry. A motorcycle, a redhead with a temper. A squat creature with a long nose and a loincloth. A boy with greasy hair and a hook nose. The epitome of wealth and pure blood—a whole family. A tattered veil.

Sirius awoke with a start at the tapping on the door. He took a moment to disentangle himself from the blankets and opened the door.

"Is Harry here?" Adrienne asked. She looked… different somehow. Worried? Maybe. But there was something Sirius couldn't place, and that bothered him. He had always had a knack for interpreting people. He didn't know how he knew that—he just did.

"No, he went out a while ago," said Sirius.

"Do you know where he went?"

Sirius shook his head. He wasn't about to give too much away. Especially after he saw what this girl did to herself, to Harry…

A bolt of recognition hit him in the gut, making him queasy.

"Have we met before?" he asked.

"We've met plenty of times, Sirius." She smiled.

Sirius shook his head again. "No, I mean… before the accident." Something in her face changed. Sirius couldn't locate what it was.

"I don't think so. Could you tell Harry I came? I need to talk to him."

Something broke inside Sirius, like a dam, and everything came flooding in.

"Stay away from Harry," he said. He pulled out his wand. "You stay away from him! Don't go near him! Don't hurt him!" he roared.

Harry appeared beside Adrienne.

"Sirius!" What—what are you doing?" He grabbed Sirius' forearm and lowered it. He shot Sirius a quizzical look. Harry took Adrienne's hand, mouthing "We'll talk later" to Sirius.

Then Sirius realized what had changed about Adrienne. There was a hollow emptiness behind the gray fog in her eyes.

Dear Harry, he read,

I've never felt this way before. It's amazing to have a friend, someone to whom you can tell everything.

I can't believe we kissed, read the next one.

The message that came next was unexpected.

I've found you. You're trapped and you have nowhere to run. I will hurt you. You can't escape.

Who was sending him these notes? And how did they find Harry in Sirius' dwelling?

Troubled and tired, Harry tucked the slips of paper into a small container with the rest, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

A/N: I see I'm not getting many reviews lately… and I don't blame you. I neglected this story for a long time. It's almost done, actually. Thanks to anyone who does review. I've got maybe half of the next chapter done too… I'll update as soon as possible.