What The Thunder Said

A.N.: The title is from the T.S. Eliot poem The Wasteland. I felt it mostly fit this part of the story. This chapter marks a transition in the story. We are beginning to make the story a bit darker, so the rating may change to the highest allowed on Just thought you should know.

Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter and co. The Tenshi are based off real people and we won't appreciate it if you steal us without permission. We made our characters a certain way (flawed and weird) and it would be hard to imitate. If we find out you have stolen our characters and therefore part of who we are, be prepared to face the wrath of our guardian pit bulls and our lawyers.

The Grimm stalked the halls of Hogwarts.

Sirius tried to calm down, tried to think rationally. But, no matter how much he tried to give the benefit of the doubt or rationalize everything that had been said, his vision would go red and his anger would boil.

How could they abandon a child so easily? Was it really so simple to just accept the words of fate, to take it as the unbending truth that she was evil? Just because everyone says so, Robin's automatically guilty?

Was that how they had felt about him? Were their words as caustic while he was wronfully imprisoned in Azkaban, unable to speak for himself, with no one to listen to his pleas, had he been able to?

And, now?

He groweled, shaking his head violently to clear his thoughts.

His mind went blank with a sudden jolt of fear and wariness. His human mind racked the canine instincts, asked Padfoot what was wrong, but he couldn't understand his sudden desire to flee.

He looked around. He had been wandering aimlessly, stuck in his mind with no clear idea of where exactly he was going. He recognized, first, the dank, musty smell of mildew and cob-webs, and, second, the tiled, green-tinted dungeon walls.

This was a bad place to be. That was all his canine mind could comprehand. It was confused, his strong human emotions muddling with its thinking process.

He groweled, which, when translated, meant a profound "Screw this," and transformed back into his human form.

Sirius stood for a moment, his mind taking precious seconds to readjust to the absence of canine senses. When he came to, he tried to study his surroundings, again.

The dungeons were really quiet and kind of creepy this late into the night. Not that he'd ever admit as much. Being scared of the dungeon was almost as bad as being scared of Snape, and that just didn't happen.

"Well, this is great, Padfoot," he groweled into the thick, old air. "First you wander into the dungeon, then you start going doggy-instinct high mode." He sighed, running his fingers through his too long hair. "And, now you're talking to yourself... I need a drink."

He turned to go the way he had come, the fastest way possible to get out of this hell-hole of a snake-pit. He moved to transform back into the dog, but paused as something caught his attention at the corner of his eye.

He looked to his right at a blank, completely normal, although slightly slimey, dungeon wall.

Nothing.

"You're seeing things, Padfoot."

He turned away, and it was there, again, a flas of light at the edge of his vision.

He stopped and stared at it from his peripherals, making sure not to concentrate on it to directly.

A thin light of white light stretched from floor to ceiling.

If he were in dog form, his fur would be standing a good meter off his body, he was sure. The image would bave amused him, had the light not utterly creeped him out.

Remus would have mentioned the side-effects of curiousity on certain creatures of the feline persuasion.

"Good thing I'm not a cat, eh?"

He stepped sideways, staring forward but focusing on the line of light in his peripheral. One step, two steps. He didn't really remember the dungeon halls being so wide. As he came closer, the band of light became wider and, don't ask him how, taller.

"Whatever this is, it's going on the map."

The light was big enough for a man to pass through comfortably, now, and tall enough to reach the Great Hall, but Sirius dare not stare at it directly, yet, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

He felt a sudden gust of heat come from what now appeared to be a doorway and paused, suddenly unsure what he was doing. Hogwarts was an ancient fortress of old mmagic. Strange and quite often dangerous things had been known to suprise even the most astute of caretakers.

His figurative tail was wagging excitedly.

He kept going, stepping carefully, concentrating hard just to keep his eyes from turning.

One step, two steps.

And, he stepped into the light. The dark, murky green of the dungeon met the pure, warm white with a slight tingle of electricity. He turned for the first time, facing the light head on.

The light was gone.

In front of him was darkness. He turned to look behind him and say the dungeon hallway he had come from sillouetted by the entrance-way he had come through.

Never one to allow a little thing like sensory deprivation to get in his way, he stepped forward into the darkness.

Sirius Black had been through a lot in his not-quite-that-long life. They could write a bestseller based on life. Probably had. His mind was well-tailored to deal with such an eventful lifestyle.

Thus his surprise and confusion at finding himself suddenly airborn and having this situation rectrified at a very high speed is easy to understand.

After a brief spout pf mental obsenities and random flailing, Sirius had his wand out. He stared at the blackness below him and gripped his wand and racked his brain and nothing came to him but more obsenities.

"Come on, Padfoot... Just think... What would Merlin do?"

'What would Merlin do?' The voice in his mind sounded surprisingly like Remus, and his figurative tail lowered in shame. 'Merlin wouldn't be in this mess, would he? A smart man such as he would have had enough sense to turn around.'

He groweled, his anger flooding back into him. "Screw you, you righteous bastard! Screw you and the glass house you were born in! One little mistake, and you're damned, right? If that's how you felt the whole time, you should have said so, you bloody GIT, bastard, asshole-"

"Etcetera."

Sirius blinked. He was standing on solid ground, yelling at a bookcase.

The voice coughed behind him, making him jump and spin around.

"Are you quite finished, Mr. Black?"

The world went black before he could reply.

Colors. Music. Sadness.

They spun and spiraled, twisting and forming into a trinity of cacophonic chords.

Images flew by, so thin, so fragile, so very dark.

Images of running, of fear, of hatred, of hunger.

Images of death and rebirth.

It was a cycle of darkness.

And, throughout it all, the lilting sound of a voice full of power, music made up of rain and thunder and the breathing of a sleeping wolf, of the earth and the sky and darkest night.

Hear me, the song seemed to say. Hear me, and be warned.

Lightning crashed.

A raven screamed.

The music ended.

Harry awoke with a start, a memory of a piercing note fading with the grey light of dawn. The first thing he noticed was the worried expression of Ron and Neville, and second, the horrible flashing pain radiating from the general area of his scar.

"Bloody HELL!" He curled into himself, cradling his head in his hands.

"Bloody hell, indeed, Harry," Neville's cracking voice seemed to pierce through his ears and stab at his brain. "What in the bloody hell's wrong with you?"

Harry peeked between his fingers confusedly. "What are you talking about?"

Ron was sitting next to him on his bed, fear avid in his eyes. He cleared his throat, his words coming out slowly, as if speaking to a two-year-old. "You were screaming, Harry. Not in English…" He lowered his voice further, almost to a whisper. "A bunch of hissing noises, Harry… Like, you know…"

Harry's eyes widened, the pain seeming to lesson at the shock. His voice cracked as he forced the words out.

"Parsletongue…"

"Nothing's wrong, is it, Harry?" Neville seemed genuinely concerned, practically ripping his sweater, he was wringing it so tightly.

"It's probably nothing, eh, Harry?" Ron had a forced smile on his face. "Just a bad dream about a snake, or something, right?"

They were looking at him, now. Like they were afraid he'd bite, or something.

Harry was confused. He remembered music and darkness and a lingering feeling of loss and fear. Had he been dreaming? And, speaking parsletongue? There weren't very many reasons he'd be speaking that language in his sleep, and he wasn't very excited about any of them.

"Harry?" Neville's voice was shaking.

'He's afraid,' Harry realized. 'After all he's been through, he's still afraid…'

Harry sighed. Of course he was. Normal, sane individuals usually were, weren't they?

Harry smiled at him, smiling wider at the boy's palpable relief. "Don't worry, Neville. Ron's right. I was caught in a heroic struggle against King Boa of the Amazon." He shrugged, stretching and yawning. "It was just a dream."

Neville sighed, copying Harry's contagious yam as he spoke. "Well, that's a relief, Harry." He grabbed his scarf from his bedpost, wrapping it around his neck. "I'm heading down to meet Ginny, now." He smiled mischievously at Ron's deadly glare. "We're hoping for an empty road on the walk to Hogwarts." He ducked through the door just in time to dodge a well aimed shoe.

"Bloody git… Never gave him permission…" Ron's muttering stopped as he turned his attention back to Harry. His face was immediately serious. "Tell me the truth, Harry," he whispered as if there was still somebody there to overhear. "It wasn't a dream, was it? It was one of those premonition-things about…" He gulped, cracking his voice. "You-know-who…"

Harry sighed, his head back in his hands. "I can't tell…" He glared at Ron's obvious disbelief. "Honestly, Ron. I really don't know." He racked his mind, pulling at the threads of the memory, despite the ebbing pain it produced. "All the other times were like I was, you know, right there –with- Voldemort, watching him through his eyes…" The colors in his memory hurt his eyes. "This wasn't like that… But, you're right." He smiled weakly up at Ron, appreciating his attempted bravery. "This definitely wasn't just a dream."

"Maybe…" Ron gulped, again. He was holding together rather well, given the circumstances. "Maybe we should talk to Sirius…"

"Sirius?" Harry's eyes widened in confusion. "Why Sirius?"

"Well…" Ron didn't meet his eyes all the way. "Right before you woke up, you sorta mumbled his name…" He met his eyes, quickly, waving his hands frantically, as if to wipe his fears clean. "But, don't worry! Neville didn't hear. He probably just thought it was gibberish, or something. He hasn't found out Sirius is here, I swear."

"It's ok, Ron." Harry smiled at him, stilling his frantic movements.

Ron sighed. "Sorry, Harry. It's just, with everything going on, I guess I kinda hoped this wouldn't happen, again." He smiled widely, striking as heroic a pose as he could in pajamas. "But, you know I'm here to help you, chum. You, me, and Hermione, man. We can take on anything that snake throws at us." He winked at him, a blush slightly covering his freckles. "Not to mention, the tenshi. We gotta protect our pretty little angels, right?"

Harry blushed as an image of him standing heroically in front of Riley flashed through his mind's eye, pushing aside the painful colors and sounds.

He cleared his throat. "So… Sirius." Harry got out of his bed, reaching into his trunk and pulling out the Marauder's Map from the hidden pocket he had rigged up in the far left bottom corner.

"Shouldn't he still be in Professor Lupin's office?" Ron's voice carried from above him as he peered over the top of the trunk from the bed. "I mean, it's still early. Breakfast just started and Flinch is probably roaming the halls, still. The party animal's still in bed, more than likely." He smiled at his own joke.

"I'm not too sure about that," Harry muttered, unfolding the well-loved map and tapping his wand-tip to the parchment, speaking the password clearly.

He stared intently as the flowing lines of Hogwarts seeped into the surface. There weren't many names up and about, this early, and most of them were in the dining hall or heading out to Hogsmead.

"So?" Ron's voice was expectant. He was probably nervous, again, from just sitting around.

Harry's eyes scanned fervently, from the tower to the dungeon.

"He's not here."

"What do you mean, not here?" Ron was beside him, now, his face close to the map, eyes squinting in concentration. "He has to be. I mean, what would the Order say if he just started prowling around in the Three Broomsticks, or something?"

"I don't think he's forbidden to leave the grounds…" Harry began, unsure. Maybe he just decided to go for a walk in the Forbidden Forest, or something? Certainly nothing happened…

"Woah! Way to go, Professor Lupin!" Ron was whistling and Harry, confused, pushed his head aside so he could see where he was looking.

Professor Lupin's office had two names listed in it: Remus J. Lupin and Marie Cross.

Harry was even more confused, now. He'd never heard of any faculty member by that name, or a student, for that matter.

"The old guy was holding out on us, all this time, up in his coop with a bird. No wonder Sirius went roaming. The guy needed privacy."

"I seriously doubt…" Harry began, only to be cut off by Ron's suddenly serious, worried voice.

"Hey. What are Nicole and Riley doing in the infirmatory?"

"What?"

"And, Robin's not anywhere on the map, either."

The two looked at each other, then back down at the map.

"Something happened." Ron whispered.

"Yeah." The colors and emotions of his dream were all Harry could see. "Something big."

"Let's go," Ron said, determinedly, jumping to his bed and throwing on clothes at the speed of light.

"Go where?" Harry asked, copying Ron's actions, unsure why he was suddenly so incapable of coherent thought.

"To the infirmary, of course," Ron said, incredulously, staring at Harry like he was insane. "What if they got hurt, or something?"

The fog in Harry's mind cleared, slightly. Pulling a sweater firmly over his head, he looked back down at the map. "Filch is still prowling the upper halls by Lupin's office. I'll take the invisibility cloak and go ask Lupin if he knows anything about Sirius, you head down to the infirmary. I'll catch up with you."

Ron looked at him, surprised. "You're not coming with me?"

Harry sighed, his mind torn between rushing off with him to Riley's side and the horrible feeling he was getting about Sirius. "I'll catch up with you, ok. Now, go, or Filch is going to catch up to you, first."