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Harry slumped into his bed; his body happily aching from the flying games.
"I'll sleep well tonight." He murmured as he pulled the sea of emerald covers over him.
A few moments later, indiscriminate to the sleeping mind; a light pressure at his feet startled him awake.
"What the-" Harry stopped as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see the dim silhouette of a blood-red bird.
"Oh, it's you again." Harry sighed. He had not told anyone, not even Ron and Hermione about the phoenix. They would think him crazy or call it Dark Art. He should be wary; after Sirius's death he should be more careful, but the creature had an aura of peace and human-like eyes if understanding. He had a sincere trust in the creature.
"How did you get in?" He asked.
The window in his room remained shut, and his door closed.
"Are you just a hallucination?" He sighed and rubbed his temples.
The bird kept staring at him, an almost amused look.
"And what do you find so funny." He asked in mockery.
As an answer the bird flew closer and tapped him in his face gently.
"Am I funny eh?" The boy-who-lived wondered.
The scarlet creature pecked at the hidden scar on his arm, staring back with wise blue eyes.
"I know, I know. I'm not doing very good at my job am I?" Harry sighed. He stood up out of his bed and began pacing the room.
"I want to help Pro-… Lupin first. He is so depressed and lonely, but I don't know what I can do to help. I feel like I'm the only one who can help him because I'm the… the closest thing left he has of my father, but what can I do?" Harry continued pacing around the room, looking at the old pictures on the wall.
"My dad would know what to do… or Sirius… why did the have to die?" He said after a moment to the silent phoenix on the bed still.
"I would take Sirius's place… then Lupin wouldn't bee so upset… but no!" His voice grew bitterly. "I am the boy-who-lived! I have to stop Voldemort! All because of some stupid prophesy! It's Voldemort's fault! He is the reason Sirius and my parents are dead!" Harry was close to yelling now.
Scarlet creature remained still on his bed, icy eyes staring up with compassion and patience.
The last of the Potters sat down on an antique wooden chair and stared back at the large bird, small phoenix. As he calmed, it flew gently over to his shoulders, resting its slender head upon his cheek.
Harry stroked its neck. "I suppose I should name you now then."
The creature simply stared back at him.
"How about… Blood?"
The phoenix stayed silent.
"No, to cruel. Ice then? No. "Harry paused looking over the creature. "Scarlet, Flame, Bob, Joe, Sally…"
If a bird could laugh then it would be doing so; for the ice blue eyes had a sparkling light of laughter fluttering around in them.
"Are you laughing at me?" He asked in mock anger.
The phoenix gave him a playful peck on the hand.
"I suppose I am dreadful at this name thing though… Come to think of it; I don't even know if you are a female or a male! How am I going to name you?"
After a moment, Harry quieted and looked into the deep, questioning eyes of the bird.
"You want me to help him don't you, to help Lupin?" He asked quietly, reeling in his own sub- conscience.
A soothing stroke against his chin was all the answer Harry needed.
"How though?"
The magnificent wings of the bird opened and it hopped onto his head; giving him a final nudge on the hand before approaching the window. It was telling him the time had come. Clear night skies had called the red dawn to fly again, and it answered without hesitation to leave the frequent host it was attempting to help.
"You got in my yourself, why can't you get out?" The boy asked
The phoenix simply sat and waited for Harry to open up the window. The face relaxed, poise patient. With a sigh, the human did open the sliding window. It gave in after a few moments of grunting, ignorantly squealing from being awoken from its bed of dust.
The scarlet creature glided out into the dark sky, hurriedly rushing the gray rays of early dawn onto center stage.
Harry Potter sighed and collapsed in his bed, taking the last few hours of well-needed sleep.
§
Days became weeks as routine set into Harry. Every morning he rose at dawn's early canvas of gold, to learn new spells with Lupin. They would go outside into the grassy field behind the house; fighting against the chilly morning air and rainbow dew drops that enthralled and encroached upon them. Outside was the safest place however, away from anyone who might be harmed by a mis-placed spell or stray fire.
After a time, Mrs. Weasely would call them to breakfast. He would sit and chat to Ron and Hermione over buttered toast, smoldering bacon slices, and warm tea; before he was off with Remus again to study Occlumency.
Occlumency was by far the most grueling part of the day. Harry would go with Lupin into a dim, quiet room an unpainted white with no adornments. It offered no distractions and gave no answers. This was the best place to study. He would shut his mind as best he could; before Remus would try and penetrate it. If Lupin did, which was the majority, then Harry would hear Sirius's voice; and awake on the ground and a shaking professor would pick him up. But if he succeeded and blocked Remus from his mind; the teacher would tell him a story about his parents and Sirius at school. It was those tales that fueled him in the daunting study. Wisps of laughter far a gone that whispers in his night dreams. Stories of the infamous Marauders and Jame's incessant wooing of Lily Evans in comparison to his subjective torture of Severus. It was that which made him pick himself up each time; that and the scar on his arm. The warm-blooded fury that pounced at ever mention of his name. Voldemort.
From dark a dawn rises, and the tumultuous fog would lift got tea time.Harry usually just rested during it; before going off with Ron and Hermione to do homework and practice Quidditch. Sometimes it amazed him that despite all his training, the great weight upon his shoulders, and the cloud that shifted over his thoughts, Harry James Potter was still a part of himself. A teenage wizard with a handy nag as a Seeker and a slight slacker in the homework department. Amazed, and gladdened him. Harry had to be sure the world was still going on outside the complex spell-weaving the mind-breaking of his daily life. His friends showed their concern only in their attitudes toward him. Hermione offered more to help him with his homework and no longer nagged him. (As much.) Ron would take breaks in their game and made sure that he never got to tired.
Lastly of all important hours, supper would be ready and Harry would talk with various members of the Order. No news of Voldemort had some in; but he had found out that Hagrid had gone on a mission to do with some odd creature and Snape was still trying to get recognized by the Death Eaters. The bit of information that interested him most was that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was not filled yet. With the dawning war there were many applicants; but Dumbledore had become picky and refused them all.
"Perhaps Lupin will become our teacher." Hermione said one night while they talked.
Harry shook his head. "I've already asked him. He refuses to even apply for the job again."
"Why? I am sure Dumbledore would let him in." Ron added.
Harry shrugged. "He says that the last thing Dumbledore needs is owls coming in from angry parents."
"Such blind prejudice." Hermione voiced angrily. "He is by far out best teacher and yet all those… people won't let him teach just because he is a little bit different!"
Ron nodded. "Yeah, but not everyone knows him like we do. I mean, werewolves are dangerous Hermione. They aren't trying to be unfair."
Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Harry stopped the fight.
"He also said he could do more in the Order."
She sighed. "Well, then I wonder who it will be."
Ron shrugged. "No since worrying over it. I just hope they don't give much homework."
Harry grinned and Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.
"Well, Ron is right. We shouldn't worry about it. Let's all go to bed." Harry finally said.
All three agreed and headed to different doors.
Harry climbed the steps slowly; he was exhausted and his mind brimming with questions. He almost ran into his door when he finally got there.
Slipping, into his room; he looked quickly around to see if his feathered friend was anywhere to be seen. He hadn't seen it since it first came to the Grimmauld Place. He wondered what attracted it to him.
Just another question to sleep on. Harry thought with a yawn as he collapsed in his bed; soon to meet a tell-a-tale dream...
§
§
"What do you mean, you don't know?" A sickeningly familiar voice hissed.
"M-master…" Wormtail choked in his dark master's grasp.
Voldemort threw him down, a disgusted look crossing his reptilian face.
"You are useless!"
"M-master, p-p-please forgive me… No one can find out… no one knows…" Peter sniveled on the ground.
A strong kick from the dark lord stopped his rambling.
"Insolent fool! Dumbledore takes weeks to choose a new teacher and when he finally does; no one knows who it is? Lies!"
Peter sobbed. "I am sorry! Give me one more week, I am your most loyal servant… I brought you back." He seemed to hope that this would earn him mercy, but instead it drew a cruel laugh from his master's lipless mouth.
"You? You have done but two things in my service, and you have also failed me and hid as a rat among my enemies. You are a weak rat and your time has run out!" With that a pale hand drew a long brown wand.
"Crucius!" The spell was drowned by horrible screams as Wormtail flailed on the floor in agony.
ª
"Harry, Harry, HARRY!"
Harry Potter awoke with a start as someone screamed his name and shook him.
"W-what?" He looked around the room, his eyes adjusting to the dark. It was still the middle of the night.
Ron was by his bed; he had been the one shaking him. Remus was panting from yelling at him, and Hermione stood fearful at the other side of him.
"Y-You had a dream. You were screaming." Hermione murmured.
"Something 'bout a teacher and then you started having a fit or something." Ron added hoarsely.
Harry realized that he was tense and sweating. He forced his heart rate to calm down and took deep breaths; reminding himself that he was safe here.
What is it that you saw Harry?" Lupin looked down at him with concerned gray eyes.
"It was Peter." He began. "H-He was talking to Voldemort," Ron flinched at the name. "He was begging for another chance… But Voldemort said that he had failed… Said that it was to easy to find out…"
"Yes, yes." Remus urged.
"To find out who the new teacher was…" The-boy-who-lived looked up with questioning eyes at his teacher.
Lupin sighed and ran his hand through his prematurely thinning hair. "No one knows who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is. Dumbledore refuses to tell. Why would Voldemort want to know about it though?"
"I bet he had his own spies apply for the job." Hermione said suddenly.
Moony gave her a warm smile. "Very good Ms. Granger. Of course, Dumbledore anticipated it and he has special…screening for all his applicants."
Hermione blushed at the compliment, but nodded. "Of course."
The man sighed and shook his head. "Well, I'll tell the others about this. The best thing we can do is go to sleep."
Ron and Hermione nodded and trotted off to their separate beds, Lupin following. He paused at the doorway and peered back at the teen in the bed.
"Oh, And Harry."
Harry looked up instinctively. "Yes… Lupin."
Remus nodded at his name. "You are taking Occlumency to block these images. Whether or not they are helpful, the fact still remains that they are dangerous. Voldemort can alter them however he likes, and you cannot trust them. You must block them out, understand?"
The unspoken words where what hit Harry hardest. The fact that Sirius had died because of a dream, the silent message between them.
"Yes Professor." Harry lapsed.
"Goodnight Harry." He replied softly as he walked out the door.
§
Harry stayed up, staring blankly at the ceiling, thinking of the dream and Sirius; not trying to sleep. He knew that he would regret it in the morning, but the morning seemed a world away.
§
Harry's eyes lifted in fading light. He wondered what time it was. It was still dark, so maybe it was before dawn. That would make sense. He shook the sleep from his head and crept downstairs.
He found Ron and Hermione sitting by the fireplace, talking quietly. The redhead was sitting across the couch, lounging while his face was oddly serious. Brown eyes were focused completely on the brunette in front of him, lips pulled between speech and thinness to produce grunts of agreement or disagreement. The brunette's hair curled down in smoothed pieces, Harry remembering for a second the bushy-haired, buck-toothed first year. She had changed in more than just appearance though. Even though Hermione was debating something with Ron, the watcher could see the casual ease they dealt with it. Words were not meant for hurt anymore. Not wanting to disrupt the firelit moment, Harry stood still. Then Ron sneezed and caught his best mate's figure in the pale corner of his eye.
"What time is it?" Harry asked as he walked up, acting calm while loosing a war with a grin.
They both turned to him and smiled back.
"Hello Sleepyhead." Hermione teased.
"Hi, you slept so late we thought you were dead or something." Ron exclaimed.
Hermione shot him a glare and Ron looked down, ears reddening.
"Why what happened?" Harry asked, ignoring the last remark.
"After last night Lupin said that you should probably be allowed to sleep in." She told him.
"And you have been asleep all day. It is past seven o'clock!" Ron added.
"Seven?" Harry thought bemused. He wasn't to surprised though, he hadn't gone to sleep until four in the morning.
There was a moment of private thoughts, not voiced in the air at ease with the mutual silence. Finally, it was broken.
"Hey, let's go out for ride." Ron said suddenly.
Harry and Hermione followed him out to the grassy field and the two boys caught a last minute game before it became too dangerous to ride safely. The moon was but a sickle in the sky, a blessing for one as a curse to the two broomstick riders.
"Well I see your finally awake." Remus said as he walked in with a small smile.
"Yeah, thanks." Harry replied, windswept night-spun hair, flushed golden cheeks and pearled sweat classical signs of his last activity.
"Harry I would like to talk to you." He said after a moment.
The-boy-who-lived took one last glance a his friends and shrugged; following Lupin.
§
"Sirius talked about you… all the time last year." Remus began as they strolled along the dark streets. The pavement was worn smooth, yet little rocks rebelled up under their feet. The sky was darkened to an obsidian navy, lit by few silver stars. A crisp England wind stretched through the streets, pressing to get passed the jackets of two muggle-dressed wizards.
"He kept saying how much you reminded him of James, and how proud he was of you… and how much better you were then Severus." Lupin gave a rueful smile. "He loved you like a brother Harry."
Harry looked down to the pavement, eyes blurring with tears, while thoughts raced fuzzily.
Why is Professor Lupin saying this? Does he want to make me hurt? Does he blame me for Sirius's death?
"Do you wonder why I am telling you this?" He finally asked.
Harry nodded numbly.
"Whenever we practice Occlumency and I break into your mind; do you know what I see?" Moony asked softly.
Harry had a guess. "Sirius, right before he died."
Remus nodded. "Or Sirius as he died, or Sirius in the fireplace or some other memory of him."
The silence that passed for a moment seemed to hold a question.
"Harry I know that you love Sirius as much as I do; and I know that you feel guilty about his death… But… He once told me; during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, that he wished he could be doing it in your place; so that way nothing could happen to you. He said that he could take anything just to know that you were safe…" His voice trailed off and he wiped his eyes quickly.
Harry blinked hard, trying not to scream as he felt coldness drip down his cheek.
"It was Voldemort that led you to the Department of Mysteries; it was he that used your love of your godfather to capture you. What he didn't count on; however, was Sirius' affection for you. Sirius died, not because of you, or even because of Bellatrix, but because he choose between his life and yours; and he choose yours." Lupin stopped walking, and looked straight at Harry under the faint moonlight. It silhouetted his form; making his lines darken and sad gray eyes shadow under long graying locks of caramel hair.
"And you cannot waste the life he gave you by mopping around and feeling guilty. Harry, you have to train, you have to prepared to fight for your life. You have to live. Fight for Ron and Hermione, and the rest of the Weaselys, and Dumbledore and the Order! Fight for whatever you like, but swear to me Harry; that you will never, never give up!"
Harry looked into the eyes of the last of his parent's friends and whispered;
"I swear."
§