Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies is not mine.

A/N: I present to you - Chapter Two: Reunions and Keepsakes! So, this is now a few pages longer. I've slightly altered the scene with Harry's parents, and I've added onto the end, with Remus showing up at the end of the day. I hope you guys like it. And please review and tell me what you think, so I know if I should change anything further in the story.Thanks to all of you who are still sticking with the story! - Min

Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Two: Reunions and Keepsakes

Harry had slept for three full days after having fallen into that unknown world, waking up at short intervals to eat or use the lavatories. He was more than pleased to realize that what had happened wasn't a dream, and was in fact, real. It was definitely a dream come true.

He spent quite a while after those three days making himself familiar with the house he was in. It was a nice, three bedroom house that reminded him of the Dursley's -- although, this one seemed more human. It wasn't spotless, although it was clean. It had it's homey touches, with pictures everywhere and random wizarding knickknacks thrown about with the muggle items.

What the boy found to be a bit unsettling about the house though, was all the pictures of him growing up that sat on the fireplace mantle, or on the many cabinets or shelves. It was eerie seeing pictures of a childhood he never had, without the lightening bolt scar that still marred his forehead. And those pictures... the ones with him and his parents...

It was odd, but he got used to it.

Before he knew it, almost three weeks had passed by, and remembering the letter, he realized that he would be seeing Sirius soon. The mere thought of that gave him so much hope that he was even able to eat half of his dinner that night.

The days ticked by, and Harry became more nervous about the meeting with Sirius. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around his Godfather, seeing that this was a completely different man. He hadn't been sent to Azkaban for a murder he never committed. He hadn't been on the run for years on end before his death... and suddenly, for the first time since he'd been thrown into his 'dream world' as he began to call it, Harry realized that his parents were there -- not alive, no, but there, in St. Mungo's, if roles had completely switched with Neville. They were... there.

Tears sprang into Harry's eyes as he realized that one day, he might actually see his parents. It was odd, he realized, and wondered how he'd deal with the soulless vessels of the people he'd dreamt of having all his life.

Before he could think any further, he heard a key turning in the front door and it opened.

His heart leapt in his chest. He stood up uncertainly from his seat on the couch and walked slowly towards the door, feeling his palms beginning to sweat. He was nervous -- but you couldn't blame him. He was about to see his Godfather, alive and well.

"Harry?" A voice rang out. It sounded foreign to Harry's ears, yet there was still a hint of recognition in it. It wasn't so gravelly or hoarse as he was used to. "Harry, are you here?"

"I--I'm in here," the boy called out brokenly, trying his hardest not to break down before seeing the man he had cared about over a year ago.

After hearing a loud clinking noise of keys being placed on a table, he heard footsteps coming closer to the living area. He shifted anxiously, waiting for Sirius to come into view, and he wasn't disappointed.

The man that he set his eyes on was tall, with neatly trimmed black - albeit graying - hair. He had a medium build and sparkling blue eyes. He wore a well-fitted t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans and black trainers. The smile that had been on the mans face fell though, when he set eyes on his Godson.

"Merlin, Harry," he sputtered. "What happened to you?"

Not quite sure what he was talking about, Harry looked down at his shaking hands. They seemed to shake a lot lately, he realized. Harry shrugged his slender shoulders and looked up again, eyes focusing on Sirius'. This time, he saw tears welling up in the older mans eyes.

"Oh, Harry. I didn't realize that things were getting that bad," he whispered and stepped forward, bringing his Godson into a tight, fatherly embrace.

That's when Harry broke down. He began sobbing, clutching desperately onto the man that he had come to know and love. "Sirius," he sobbed, "Sirius, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Shh," Sirius replied, unaware of the true meaning of Harry's words. "I should be the one saying I'm sorry. Look at you -- I mean…"

As the man trailed off, Harry hugged him tighter, "It's my fault, Sirius. All my fault. I'm so sorry--"

"Hush," Sirius patted him on the back, then pulled away, placing his hands on either of his arms. He stepped back to a respectful distance and looked the boy up and down. A look of sadness swept over the animagus's face as he took in all of Harry's features. "Merlin…"

Harry wiped at his still streaming eyes, feeling drained but happy. His Godfather was actually there with him now. Everything would be okay.

"I'm so glad to see you, Sirius," he stated truthfully.

"I'm glad to see you too, Harry. Now, I think it's time for us to get some dinner. What do you say?" The man asked, although uncertainly as he patted harry's shoulder a bit.

"I've already eaten," Harry told him, but smiled a bit, "But if you're hungry, I'll be more than happy to join you."

"Great!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders and steering him into the kitchen, "I see that you've kept things in order around here. You didn't use magic, did you?"

"Erm," Harry looked at him uncertainly. He had used a bit of magic as he tried to get used to his new wand. Even though he had his Holly wand, he didn't want to use it in case it seemed suspicious, so he began using the wand he found on the bedside table in his room. "I, er, used a bit." At the look of panic that passed across his Godfathers face, Harry rushed to explain, "I wasn't for anything big, really. No harm done."

Relief, but slight uncertainty settled on the older wizards face. Harry then realized that this Sirius was a lot more expressive. "Good. Well, I'm famished. Does steak sound good to you?"

Harry smiled for the first time in a while, "Sounds great."

Harry couldn't have been happier. His life seemed to be one of a fairytale; for him at least.

Living with Sirius was more wonderful than he had ever thought. Sirius wasn't too strict, yet he wasn't too lenient. He was a great parental figure, Harry realized. He figured that he had grown up a lot more, although sometimes he still had that Marauder side in him, where he would play a small prank here and there. Harry was more than happy to counter his antics, surprising Sirius more than anything. Harry guessed that Sirius wasn't used to Harry being able to counter his pranks, as he was supposed to be horrible at magic.

Harry knew that Sirius would eventually catch on to him not being clumsy, and there was the fact that he could do a lot more magic than Neville ever had. Also, Harry had been surprised that it was taking so long for his Godfather to realize, he had the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. Most would have noticed it by then, but Sirius hadn't. Maybe his hair was in the way?

But Harry was completely content with his life now. He was surprised to realize that he had settled into life there so quickly. He thought it would be awkward, but instead, it was simple, easy, and actually a bit of fun. The only thing he had against it was how fast the time seemed to go by.

Time was passing too quickly in Harry's opinion. It was his birthday now, and Sirius had planned for them to do something fun that day. They had to be careful though, Sirius had told him though, because Voldemort was still at large.

Harry had learned that Voldemort had been brought back the same way he had before, except with Neville's blood instead of his. But not everything was the same -- although months ago, before things had changed, Dumbledore had died, here, he was still alive in this dream world.

After hearing that bit of news, Harry had nearly burst into tears again. Things were looking up, indeed.

The only problem was, the boy was having trouble eating still, and he had numerous nightmares. He didn't tell Sirius though, as he preferred to cast silencing charms around his bed at night, but there were those few nights where he'd forget about them and would end up waking Sirius up. His Godfather was worried though, Harry knew, because of his weight and his appearance, and the night terrors that plagued his sleep didn't help much. He also had a slight feeling that Sirius would come into his room at night to watch him sometimes because quite a few nights, Sirius would randomly wake him up and ask him a question - sometimes varying from what did he want to eat in the morning to where he put his socks. Harry was also a bit obviously because his attitude had ultimately changed from the nervous, stuttering boy, to the quiet, depressed man.

As much as Harry tried, he couldn't change his attitude. It was something he was stuck with, as it was part of himself. Hopefully nobody else would care and those that might wouldn't notice.

"Harry, are you up yet?" called Sirius from downstairs.

"Yes," Harry called back as he ran his fingers through his untamed hair to get the tangles out. He looked at his image in the mirror and frowned. He really did need to eat more. He was still skeletal and pale, with that haunted look in his eyes. He was unnerved, himself, by the look in his eyes. It reminded him of the Avada Kedavra curse.

Shuddering slightly, Harry adjusted his shirt - which fitted him better than Dudley's clothes had, but was still extremely loose against his gaunt form - and threw on a light cloak before he left the room to find Sirius.

The other man was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He smiled as his Godson walked into the room.

"So, how's my birthday boy?"

Harry only smiled slightly at the man. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, well, seeing that you haven't gotten out in a while, I was thinking about taking you to Diagon Alley to get you a present or two. Then we can get some ice cream and afterwards you can pick a place to go. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

"Alright! Lets get going."

After flooing to The Leaky Cauldron, Sirius steered Harry outside to the wall that was the portal to Diagon Alley.

As usual, the place was packed, although not as much as one would normally think. Since Voldemort had made his public appearance, people were very uneasy to be out alone.

"So, where would you like to go? You know, they have some new books on Herbology that you might like."

Harry nearly grimaced at the thought of liking Herbology. He was okay at it, but not great. "I think I'd like to go to the Quidditch shop, if that's okay with you."

"Quidditch? I thought you didn't like Quidditch."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "I've been practicing, and I've gotten better."

The man grinned widely, "Finally interested, eh?"

Harry attempted to smile back, nodding. "Yeah, it's a lot better once you get used to it, I reckon."

"That's my boy! So, a trip to get a new, state-of-the-line broom it is then!"

An hour later, Harry and Sirius exited the shop with a brand new Firebolt. Sirius had insisted that Harry get it, as a birthday present and a make-up present for not being home for about a month before. Harry refused, but his Godfather had been overly persistent, and eventually he gave in.

Now, the two of them sat at one of the many booths in front of Florence Fortescue's ice cream parlor. Sirius was on his second ice-cream cone, while Harry had barely finished his first, and only one.

Harry couldn't see how the man hadn't gotten a brain freeze yet, seeing that he literally wolfed down the first one and was almost through with the second.

"You eat a lot," Harry commented half-heartedly.

"And you don't eat enough," he retorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Seriously, Harry. You're a stick."

The younger wizard felt his cheeks flush, "No I'm not!"

"As much as you deny it, you are," Sirius suddenly seemed to sober more as he looked at the boy. "I don't know what happened Harry, and I wish you'd tell me. I just can't imagine what caused you to stop eating."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said lamely, unsure of what to say. He didn't know much about Neville's life, and now he wished he did. It would have helped him greatly, now.

Sighing heavily, Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, if you say so. I just wish there was something I could do to help you. I'm always gone and I don't see you much, you know? I just want to be there for you when you're having trouble."

Harry felt his heart clench painfully in his ribcage. "Sirius, you being here with me today is the most I could ask for," he stated truthfully, feeling tears prickle at his eyes but he refused to allow them to fall. "I couldn't be any happier right now."

And it was true. Harry didn't want the summer to end. He was perfectly happy being there with Sirius. It was, in all honesty, a dream come true.

The older man smiled sincerely at him. "I think we should get going, Harry. It's getting late, and if you wanted to do anything, I think we'd best do it before it's dark. Where to?"

Nodding, Harry began to think. Where would he like to go? He'd never really had the chance to do anything of his choice in his life, so he felt awkward as the man waited patiently for an answer.

"Well," Harry began, unsure of what to say. "I don't really know where I want to go. I'm not that great with deciding things.."

"Come now, there has to be something you'd like to do," Sirius urged.

"Well," Harry thought for a moment. "I… I would like to, erm, visit mum and dad," he said quietly.

The air around them seemed to become slightly gloomy as sadness swept over both of them. Sirius was smiling sadly again, "I think that'd be a great idea, Harry. Come, lets go before visiting hours are over."

Harry and the older man stood up and made their way back to the pub. They flooed to St. Mungo's and waited patiently before they were allowed to go see the two patients admitted into the ward.

The boy was nervous. He was actually going to see his parents up close. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or sad about their state of mind, but decided to be optimistic about it all.

After walking for a long time down the long, empty halls, they stopped at the door leading to the room where Mr. Weasley had once been placed after his snake bite at the Ministry.

Cautiously, Sirius opened the door and allowed Harry to walk in first.

The room was brightly lit. From what he could see, there were no other occupants in the room, but he figured that his parents were behind the curtain across from them, just as it had been before with Neville's family.

Gulping quietly, Harry walked forward, feeling as if he were in a daze. When he reached the grey curtain, he pulled it back slowly, allowing his eyes to take in the scene before him.

A woman with graying red hair lay on a bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling above her with dull, green eyes. She was wearing a simple hospital gown over her gaunt, pale form, with a blanket draped over her lower body.

Next to her on another bed was a man with black hair, resembling Sirius' almost, although his was shorter. The man wasn't wearing any glasses, which caused his face to show out more than expected. His skin was stretched against his face, making him look almost as Harry did. Oddly enough, the boy thought that he looked like a mirror image of his father at the moment, besides the fact that he was wearing glasses, whereas the other man wasn't. They were both skeletal.

"Mum, Dad," Harry whispered although his throat was tight and walked over towards where the woman lay.

He placed a hand gently on her own, marveling at the fact that he was actually able to touch her. The woman didn't respond to his touch and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Harry choked back a sob as he moved a stray piece of hair out of his mothers face, memorizing every wrinkle on her face. It was obvious that she had once been a beautiful woman, but many years of neglect to keep herself healthy made her into what she was then.

"Hey mum," he said, kneeling down next to the bed. "I know you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but…" he paused for a moment, unsure how he wanted to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, unable to find a better way to say it, he blurted out, "I-I love you mum."

The woman turned her head slightly, as if she heard, but didn't move otherwise. Leaning over a bit, Harry kissed the woman's cheek lightly before getting up and walking to the next bed.

His father's eyes were closed, so Harry figured he was asleep. Feeling overly emotional, Harry knelt down once again. "'Lo, Dad."

He grabbed the mans hand in his for a moment and closed his eyes. He felt tears forming against his closed eyelids and wondered briefly if he were going to cry. After a few minutes, he opened them again and noticed that his father had gripped onto his hand slightly. Harry smiled sorrowfully, his eyesight blurry because of unshed tears, "I love you too, Dad. I want you to know that, even if you don't understand what I'm saying. I'm glad to see you, you know? I just wish there were more that I could do…"

He sat like that for a while, staring at his father. Like he had with his mother, he stared at every line, wrinkle, or freckle on the mans face, trying to permanently etch the memory into his mind. It might not be the happiest memory, but he knew if he didn't he would regret it someday. It was the first time he'd ever laid eyes on his parents in person; that he could remember anyway.

After a long time passed, Sirius came and got him. Harry figured that it was hard for Sirius to see two of his best friends in such a state, as he stayed outside of the curtains.

"Time to go, Harry. Visiting hours are almost over."

Nodding dejectedly, Harry glanced once more at his parents before allowing himself to be steered away. Maybe he would get to see them during Christmas.

But before they got too far, Harry heard a noise and turned around, despite the arm around his shoulders.

He saw that his mother had moved a bit in her bed and stared at him with blank eyes, but a glint of recognition shone in her eyes. For a moment, nothing happened as they stared at one another, but then, slowly, she extended one of her bony hands towards Harry.

He stared, unsurely, until Sirius nudged him forward, "Go on, Harry. She's got something for you."

He glanced from the man to the woman, then slowly walked towards her, slowly cupping her hand in his. She let go of a slip of paper which promptly fell into his hands and withdrew the hand before looking away to a spot on the wall.

Harry felt his heart break and with a shuddering breath, he ripped his eyes away from the woman and resumed walking with Sirius, a noticeable shake in his shoulders. As they went, Harry looked at the paper in his hands. It was a crinkled wrapper of Droobles Best Blowing Gum, creased so much that the color had faded where the folds were.

Harry's eyes were large and shining with emotions. He fingered the slip of paper for a moment, realizing that it was the first object given to him by any of his parents - that he could remember. He stared, and stared, before he slowly placed it into his pocket, making sure not to mess it up any more than it already was.

As he and Sirius were walking once again down the halls, Harry thought to himself, Voldemort will pay, one day, for what he did to my parents. One day…

Back at the house, both Sirius and Harry sat in thoughtful silence while lounging in the sitting area. Harry lay sprawled out on the couch, legs hanging over one end while he stared silently at the ceiling above him. Sirius sat on a recliner, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He looked half asleep, Harry thought, but realized that he was probably quite alert at the moment.

Harry couldn't stop thinking about his parents. It was the first time that he'd ever laid eyes on them since he could remember. They were flesh and blood, but their souls were gone... they were insane. They probably didn't even recognize him.

He shifted a bit on the cushions so that he was able to see through the kitchen door. He, too, liked to be able to see his surroundings. It was just a natural instinct for him now. Constant Vigilance, was Moody's motto.

"Harry."

Harry jumped a bit at the sudden speech but turned all the same to look over at Sirius, who now had his eyes trained on him.

"Hm?"

"Moony's supposed to be here soon," he said, yawning loudly.

"Oh." He'd forgotten about that. Once again, he felt sheepish for not remembering about Remus.

"You haven't seen him in a long time, you know," Sirius said offhandedly.

Harry just shrugged, unsure of how he should respond. He readlly didn't know how long it had been since the other Harry had seen Professor Lupin and he didn't want to say anything suspicious.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" the boy's Godfather asked, frown lines etched on his forehead.

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking," Harry told him.

"A knut for your thoughts?"

Harry gave him a slight smile, "I'm just thinking about... mum and dad."

The other man nodded solemnly and was about to say something but a knock came from the door. He stood up and hurried to answer it. Harry could hear various greetings, then the shuffling of feet in the hall. After a few moments, Harry was able to see both men come into view from the door leading from the hall.

He was glad to see that Remus didn't look any different than he had before he'd left his own world, but there were slight changes. His clothing was a bit newer looking, and his eyes didn't swim with sadness like before.

"Harry!" he greeted, eyes landing on the boy. The amber orbs widened a bit at the appearance, but the look was quickly replaced by something else that Harry couldn't figure out. Standing up hesitantly, Harry looked at Remus. He knew the werewolf had a sharp eye.

"Hey... Remus," Harry struggled with the foreign name for a moment, unsure of how he was supposed to greet the man. Both of the adults looked at him unsurely for a moment, then Remus went up to Harry and stiffly embraced him, as if waiting for him to attack.

"What happened to you calling me Uncle Moony? Too old for that now?" He half joked, but there was a slight edge to his voice.

Harry was silent for a moment, but thought up an excuse, "Sorry, I'm just not feeling myself lately."

"I'd say!" Sirius exclaimed, his bark-like laugh drowning the moody atmosphere.

Remus let go of Harry but shot him an odd look. Harry shifted nervously under the gaze and looked off to the side, hoping that there was no danger in letting Remus see him as he was. Werewolves were good at sensing changes. He knew that he must look, smell, and act different to the man, and the instincts that came with the curse probably told the man to be wary of him.

"So how was your birthday, Harry?" Remus asked him as he took a seat in a chair next to Sirius' and they all resumed their sitting positions - Harry sat on the far end of the couch instead of lying on it, aware that all eyes were trained on him.

"It was nice," Harry said thoughtfully. In truth, it had been one of the best birthdays he'd ever had, despite his gloom on not getting the usual packages from Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley. "I saw mum and dad today."

Remus nodded respectfully, "So what did this idiot," he jerked his thumb towards Sirius, who shot him an indignant glare, "get you for your birthday?"

"Oh," Harry felt his face drain slightly, "He got me a broomstick."

One eyebrow rose slowly, amber eyes locked onto green. "I didn't know you were into Quidditch."

"I'm practicing," Harry hurried to explain. "I realized that once I could get used to the heights, that it's actually fun."

"He's got to have his fathers skills," Sirius smiled broadly. "Ever Potter has Quidditch skills, whether they want them or not."

Harry gave the man a slight smile, inwardly thanking him for taking the attention off him.

"That's not exactly true, Sirius," Remus chided, "There was Alias Potter, remember? James' uncle's brother? And then there was Gladius Potter; you couldn't forget her."

"Alias was only a bad player because he chose a position not fit for him," scowled Sirius. "And Gladius was a woman." Eyebrows rose at the statement.

"Sirius, it doesn't matter what gender one is, if they have skills, they have skills. If they don't, then let it be. You're as dense as ever, Padfoot."

"Hey," the man yelped, "I resent that!"

The night slowly passed and Harry began to tire. As much as he loved watching two former Marauders bicker, fight, laugh, and joke during dinner and just about anywhere else, he needed his sleep or he'd have no energy in the morning.

He stood up and bid the men goodnight, which they returned. He pointedly ignored the still unknown look in Remus' eyes and went up to his room, where he begun to change into his pajama's.

As he pulled his shirt off, he looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. He hated himself, the way he looked. He never cared before, but now… it was so obvious that he was thin. Shrugging a bit in obvious distaste, he finished changing into just a pair of pajama pants and a button up shirt before he sat down on his bed.

He picked up his jeans from the day's events and rummaged in the pockets for a moment and fished out the sole bubblegum wrapper he'd received.

That, itself, had been the best present given to him.

As odd as it sounded, it was from his mother. The only present he had gotten in years from her. He stared at it, turning it over and over in his hands.

Harry was unsure of how long he sat there, but he knew it was a long time. He could still hear riotous laughter and talking from the two men downstairs, and the moon was high in the sky.

The shadows in his room stood out in contrast to the tiny lamp on his bedside table and he could clearly see his image in the mirror across the room. He looked at it, and saw himself - what used to be The-Boy-Who-Lived. Wasted, dejected, and overall, at a loss of hope. He realized then, at that moment, just what challenges were going to come. That day, he'd learned a valuable thing, seeing his parents and the life he'd never had. He was no longer what he used to be.

He was no longer Harry. And this was no longer his world.

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