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

A/N: Here it is - hope you all like it. Please review and tell us what you think. : D

Italics: dream sequence

Preternatural

By: xScenex and Rubber Ducky Loser

Chapter Seven: Painful Accusations

Meredith Vanhazle sat in her portrait, weaving a piece of cloth that she hadn't found use for yet. She just wove and wove, eventually finding a meaning for the material. That's how all her best garments came out.

She was an older woman, aged about forty years in the portrait, though she were more than a couple hundred years older than that. She was a hearty woman, who loved children and talking about any subject that seemed to interest her or her host.

The woman in the portrait smiled as she continued to knit the blue yarn-like material but frowned slightly when she caught wind of some noise in the room that her portrait overlooked. Craning her neck a bit, she peered out, seeing from above the fireplace mantle.

She caught sight of the dark blobs of two figures, and she instantly recognized them as the sweet boy that would talk to her on nights he couldn't sleep, and the other boy who was so fond of Herbology.

From the look of things, they were bickering or something along those lines. She watched as the lighter haired boy named Neville backed away, shadows and light flickering on his face. She hoped that nothing too drastic was going on in the Gryffindor Common room.

She would have tried to stop it, but she had learned long ago that portraits were not to meddle with wizarding affairs. Her poor friend Rosery had been set alight by one of those cursed teenagers years back after trying to break up a Gryffindor's fight. Now, Rosery's portrait hung in the corridor before the steps to the astronomy tower, far away from any teenagers wand.

She looked down at the blue cloth in her lap and continued knitting, occasionally glancing in the children's direction. She noticed that things seemed to be heating up a bit, and she could now hear the voices loudly over the roaring of the fire.

"They can't do anything to help me! Nobody can-"

"Let go of me!"

Meredith's head jerked up just in time to see Neville strike the other boy across the face with his hand. She screamed aloud, dropping her knitting.

What in Merlin's name was going on down there? She'd never known either of those two boys to fight each other.

She continued to watch in frozen horror and fascination as the one known as Harry tried to stand up but failed, and instead settled on yelling something about 'going home.'

"My Stupified Merlin…" she whispered to herself, covering her mouth with one hand. If she didn't know anything, that boy down there had lost his gobbstones.

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Suddenly, her attention was drawn to the figures that had just flooded into the room, and to her immense relief, she saw the Head of House. What was her name? McDonald? For some reason, Meredith thought that was wrong.

"What's this about?" the woman asked sternly, her eyes darting from Harry to Neville.

"He just - flipped!" Meredith's sweet little Neville spoke with a shaky voice. "I heard someone down here and came to see who it was, and he was acting weird-"

"Weird?"

"He was laughing… it sounded like something you'd hear from… from Him. And he was babbling nonsense before he attacked me!" the boy exclaimed, and the smart girl with the pretty brown hair and her red haired knight walked up to the boy.

Meredith didn't have to strain to hear what was going on - they were being loud enough to wake the dead, she mused.

"He attacked you?" the girl cried out in surprise.

"Harry did?"

She watched as Neville nodded his head a bit. Everyone's focus landed on Harry, who was still rocking slightly while shaking his head. His yelling had stopped, but the portrait lady was quite sure the young man was still talking under his breath.

The stern professor walked up to the crouched boy, "Mr. Potter."

He didn't respond, and for a moment, the woman in the portrait thought he'd ignore her, but suddenly, he began once again, giggling riotously.

"I want to go home. I don't care if I have to fight Him, I want to go home," he laughed, shaking his head. "Please, I want to go home! Take me home-"

She watched as the professor stepped back and drew her wand. "Mr. Potter, please calm yourself or I'll be forced to stun you."

The boy continued to shake his head, "I don't care! I want to go home! HOME!"

That was the last he said. She watched sorrowfully as the teacher had to stun the poor boy.

The students mumbled and whispered to one another and Neville was sent to fetch someone - more than likely Dumbledore. Meredith picked up her blue knitting once more as Harry was levitated and floated out through the portrait hole.

"Well," she said to herself, "this will be news in the morning."

There was humming somewhere in the background, the sound faded but at the same time, crystal clear. It was a light, melodious tune that made him want to smile.

A bright, artificial light shined from somewhere above, blinding but not overly hot, through a low canopy of green. The sound of roaring water sounded nearby, accompanied by the tinkling of more water - as if it were dripping from somewhere and landing in a puddle. Even that sounded artificial.

He blinked and walked forward, his fingers brushing against something - leaves? He wasn't sure. Everything looked so surreal.

There was a path - winding and twisting delicately and he felt as if he were going in circles. Everywhere he looked was the same thing, over and over again. He had no idea of where he was, but he felt like he could stay in that tranquil setting forever.

"Harry."

He blinked and turned around, catching a flash of pale hair through the green. The swish of a cloak and the rustle of leaves. He turned around again when the sound came from behind.

"Come on, Harry. We need to hurry."

He felt compelled to follow and took a few tiny steps forward, stumbling over an unseen rock. He stumbled and flung his arms out for balance - a hand grabbed his upper arm to stop him from plunging headlong into the reeds and plants that hid a well veiled pond.

"Are you always so helpless?"

The voice was close to his ears, and he wanted nothing more than to look up at whoever was there with him. He struggled to stand upwards with balance, but just as he turned to see who had helped him, the person took off and by the time he had turned fully around, all he caught was a glimpse of a dark cloak disappearing into the greenery…

"Uhn…"

His head hurt. Harry felt sore, and he was cold. She shivered and took in a deep breath, feeling it hitch in his chest from lack of complete oxygen from his sleep.

Harry struggled to open his eyes but felt that they were too heavy and gave up. His mind felt muddled and he couldn't remember what had happened the day before. He vaguely remembered what had happened in class, and something about wandering about after curfew, but that was about all he knew.

For some reason, he felt as if he'd been renewed - something had happened and he knew it. Whether it was rejuvenation in his sleep, he couldn't recall. Dreams were never something he could easily remember.

He shifted a bit and realized that he wasn't in his bed in the Gryffindor seventh year dormitories. The sheets were thinner, scratchier. Almost like the ones in…

Shooting straight up in the bed, Harry wrenched his eyes open, only to be blinded by the whiteness of the Hospital Wing.

He winched visibly and blinked a few times, trying to get accustomed to the brightness and failed to notice someone sitting next to him.

"Harry," they said quietly.

His head whipped around and popped loudly, causing him to winch. When the stars faded from his vision, he realized with a jolt that it was his Godfather who had spoken - Sirius.

"Sirius?"

The man nodded slowly, his eyes slowly raking over the boy. He looked unsure - as if Harry might jump forward any moment and attack.

Eyebrows knitted together as Harry finally realized something. "Why are you here, Sirius?"

"Better question-" he replied, shifted slightly in his seat and waved his hands around the hospital wing for a moment. "Why are you here, Harry?"

That made him think. Why was he in the hospital wing? He felt fine, and he couldn't recall being sick or getting hurt.

"I…" he paused and once more tried to think of a plausible reason, but it still didn't come to him. He finally gave up with, "I don't know."

The man shook his head a bit, sorrow showing on his face. Harry was definitely confused.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Fine, I think," he answered, sitting back against his pillows and staring at his Guardian. It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie.

"Ah, he's awake," said a brisk voice from the left of Harry. He jumped slightly and turned to face the medi-witch, Madam Pomphrey. "When did he wake up?"

"Just now," Sirius provided.

"Good," the matron said, "Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?"

"Er." He didn't really know what to say to her. He felt confused and a bit tired and worn out, but he figured it was nothing different from the ordinary. He was afraid of her knowing he would lie if he said he was completely okay, but he set his luck. "I feel fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I feel like I usually do," he said, his eyebrows raising in question.

She blinked for a moment and grabbed a clipboard from the end of his bed. "How do you usually feel?"

"A bit tired, I guess. But otherwise, fine."

She nodded and scribbled something down on a piece of parchment on the clipboard. "Have you been feeling any different lately?"

Harry shook his head, "No."

"I see," she looked at Sirius, then at Harry. "I'll be back in a moment." And with that, she turned on heel and walked away.

After watching her go, Harry turned to Sirius. "Sirius? What's going on?"

"Well…" he started, his eyes darting around the room a bit. "You see - I got an owl from Professor Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore? Why would he owl you?" Harry interrupted, completely confused by what was going on.

"Let me finish," his Godfather hushed him, "I received an owl saying that-"

He didn't finish, as someone elsecame into the ward. Both dark haired men turned to look, and saw none other than Albus Dumbledore himself. How ironic.

Harry's heart stopped in his chest. He couldn't be around the Headmaster. He simply couldn't. That man had a way of knowing everything that went on - and he wasn't keen in letting the old man know that he was from another universe.

"Good afternoon, Harry," the wizened man greeted.

Harry mumbled, "Afternoon, Professor."

"How are you feeling, today?"

Harry felt annoyed, "How many people are going to ask me that?"

"Now, now, Harry, m'boy. It's only natural for people to worry," Dumbledore said with a slight twinkle in his eyes, but his forehead was creased with frown lines.

"I don't need people to worry about me," Harry mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest and once more leaning back against his pillows. "I don't see why anyone even bothers."

Sighing heavily, the wizened man said, "Harry, do you remember anything from last night?"

Harry shook his head, curiosity getting the better of him despite his foul mood.

"I thought so." He shot a look at Sirius from over Harry's head, but he caught it nonetheless, "If you recall anything, please allow one of us know. I will return have a word with Poppy before I leave. Good day to the two of you."

Then Albus Dumbledore left the room as quickly as he came, leaving Harry and Sirius alone once more. Everything was moving so fast he felt as if he wouldn't be able to keep up.

Harry pondered a bit on why he was there. Did something happen to him? He honestly couldn't remember what had happened the night before. Everything beyond returning to the common room was hazy, and he only recalled a bit of color and some voices.

His curiousness soon turned into worry. What if something had happened to someone else? Or worse… what if he had done something to someone? He knew his mood swings had been getting the better of him lately, and it worried him to no end. That worry began transforming into fear.

"Why am I here…?" Harry asked slowly, his voice shaking slightly as something flashed through his mind. A face - fear, and confusion.

"Well…"

Harry turned to Sirius urgently, "Tell me why I'm here!"

"Last night, you attacked a student," his Godfather said eventually, allowing the words to filter into Harry's mind.

"A-Attacked?" Harry saw Sirius nod. "I-I attacked someone? Who?"

"You attacked Neville Longbottom."

Harry's head spun in confusion and disbelief. He attacked Neville? "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. You got the worst end of it, I think." Sirius chuckled a bit, but it was just to hide his true feelings on the situation, "McGonagall ended up having to stun you in the end."

There- another flash through his mind. Everyone stood taller than him. Fear, confusion once more. A stern face; commanding something. A flash of light…

"I-I don't remember attacking anyone," he stated truthfully. "Why would I attack Neville, of all people?"

"Harry," Sirius said, eyes avoiding his. "Ever since you came back from school before the summer, you've been acting strangely. I thought it was just a change in you, but well… I'm beginning to worry. I don't want to scare you-"

"Scare me? Sirius, I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me," Harry stated incredulously.

"Look," he said sternly, looking straight at the green-eyed boy. "Poppy said that there might be something wrong with your mind - nothing she can't fix, I assure you," he added quickly, seeing the look of anger on Harry's face. "But she thinks that something might have happened that struck a nerve and it's effecting your mind somehow."

"I'm bloody fine!" Harry shouted, "How the hell could you say that I'm… I'm mental!"

The man sat up straight, his face becoming stern, "Harry, you will not speak to me like that."

Harry glared up at him, "Yeah?" he spat, angered at the sudden change of feelings in the room. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"I'm your Godfather," he responded gently, albeit with authority.

The Gryffindor turned away from the man, "But you're not my parents," he mumbled and instantly felt bad at the look on Sirius' face that he caught out of the corner of his eyes.

"Even though I'm not James nor Lily, I'm still your guardian," he said stiffly. "Whether you like it or not."

Harry's head dropped and his hands instantly covered his face. "Sirius… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that…"

"I don't want to hear it right now, Harry. Poppy will be back to test you. You will allow her to do it without complaint, you hear me?"

Harry didn't respond and he didn't receive any other response. After an agonizingly long minute, he realized that Sirius had left.

He was alone; alone once more.

A/N: So what did you think? Good? Bad? Iffy?