Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor am I claiming to own Harry Potter, thus the disclaimer.
A/N: I am so, so, so sorry! I haven't updated since January 31, and I have no other excuse than the fact that I was preoccupied... I got a new tablet two weeks ago, so I was really excited, and all I've really been doing is drawing. And I've currently been busy with the rpg that my forum is making for 1/2 Prince. And I've been busy with stuff that I can' even remember anymore... but I know that they are important! I think...
I really had no idea what I should have written in this chapter... Wow, writer's block so early in the story... o_o
Anyways~ here's a new chapter! I don't know if this is any good or not, because I have been unable to reach my editor/sister... but here it is anyway!
And thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and alerts! And with every one that I got, I got more and more guilty, and in the end, I forced myself to finish this chapter (actually, this was 75 percent done... I just didn't know what to write for the last 25 percent...), so read, enjoy, and review please!
"SIRIUS!" Harry rushed over to the bed, ignoring the fact that there might be perpetrator in the room. As he reached his godfather, Sirius jerked off the bed, struggling against his blankets that managed to curl around his neck, slowly strangling it.
Seeing this, Harry attempted to pull away the blanket, but his fingers weren't operating as he wished them to. He prided himself in being a particularly brilliant seeker, being able to catch the snitch in probably every one of his games, but when he needed his hands to do something at this time, they were clammy and stiff.
He bit his lip in frustration and opted to waking up Sirius, grabbing the man's shoulders, ignoring the fact that he could feel every bone through the skin. When Harry touched his shoulders, Sirius moved away on instinct and slapped his hands away.
Harry backed away a bit and looked around the room for something that would help him. "If Master Harry cans move away from Master Sirius, Phoam can help Master Sirius. Harry turned around and saw the House Elf walking steadily into the room with a tray bearing a few mugs floating in the air behind him. He breathed out heavily and stumbled to a nearby chair.
Sometime through the entire event, he had started sweating. He wiped it away with an arm and watched as Phoam waved his long finger at Sirius, causing the man to be enveloped in a dim light. Another wave banished the blanket. With the other hand, he made the table on the other side of the room move to the bedside. A flick caused the tray to settle gently on the table.
Within a few moments, Sirius sat up, gasping as he grasped his shirt breathlessly. "Phoem?" He croaked as he squinted his eyes. "Wha - what happened?"
"Master Sirius haves bad dream, wakes up Master Harry." Phoam reported, levitating a mug towards the man, whose attention snapped towards the boy.
"Harry?"
Harry stood up and strode over to the bed, dragging the large chair with him, wincing as the legs scraped against the wooden floor.
"Harry? Did I wake you?" Sirius looked apologetically at his godson.
He was silent for a few moments as he sat in the chair again, only the chair was near the foot of the bed. "It's… it's okay. I wasn't having a good dream either." He smiled crookedly.
Sirius nodded slowly before finally grabbing the mug that Phoam was holding up for him. "Thanks, Phoam."
"Master Sirius must sleep after Master Sirius drinks! Master Sirius' eyes very dark. Master Sirius must sleep. Master Harry must make Master Sirius go night-night." The House Elf bowed to his master and promptly Disapparated.
Sirius sipped from his mug. "Take the other one." Harry reached for the matching cup and found it pleasantly warm.
He stared at the amber-colored contents. "It's butterbeer, if you're wondering." Sirius smiled amusedly when he caught Harry sniffing the drink. "It's a popular Wizarding drink."
Harry took a small, experimental sip. He didn't know how to describe the flavor, but he certainly understood why it was so famous.
Sirius took another sip. "What year are you in now?"
"I'm going to Third year."
"Third year? That's Hogsmeade year!" At this, Sirius visibly brightened. "Ah, grand old adventures with Prongsy and Moony! Butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks with dearest Rosmelda, chocolate from Honeydukes, brilliant pranking materials from Zonkos, traipsing through the streets, trailing after Prongs as he trails after Evans."
Harry grinned when his parents were mentioned. "Where is Hogsmeade, anyways? How would we be getting there?"
Sirius stared at him. "You should have taken the carriage through the village to get to Hogwarts last year."
Reddening, Harry explained, "Last year, there was this House Elf that wouldn't let me get to school. And so there was this barrier that wouldn't let me and my friend through. And so we missed the train. And ……………" He mumbled the end.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that."
"………………"
"Sorry, Harry, but you're gonna have to speak louder than that, mate. I may be a dog, but in my human form, my senses are the same as any regular human… though maybe a tad bit better."
"And we took my friend's dad's flying car, flew to Hogwarts, and crashed into the Whomping Willow."
"You… flew to Hogwarts? And crashed into that violent tree?" Harry was looking down, so he wasn't aware of the facial expressions sliding on and off of Sirius's face. Finally, a laugh caught his attention. "WICKED!" Harry watched in amazement as Sirius adopted a boyish grin on his face. "James and I would have never thought of such a grand entrance onto the Hogwarts ground." He continued laughing before pausing for a question. "What happened afterwards?"
Harry grinned when his godfather didn't disapprove of his past actions, before giving a sheepish smile. "We were caught by Snape, the potions professor, and were nearly expelled."
At this, Sirius gave him a sharp glance. "Snape? Snivilius Tobias Snape?"
"Snivilius?"
"Snivilius, Severus, same thing. The point is, Snape is now a professor? Snape? Professor?" He gave a disgusted grimace. "He's lucky you weren't expelled. If you had been," Sirius gave a dark smile. "Something bad might happen to the git, and he may be forever mentally scarred… with witnesses for it."
Harry laughed, took a large gulp from his mug, before staring at its contents. "Why were you screaming earlier?"
Sirius froze with a shadow of his glee stuck on his face. He licked his chapped lips nervously, his eyes flying around the room as he searched for an answer.
And Harry mentally kicked himself. 'Idiot, idiot, idiot!!' He swallowed hesitantly. "Did you play Quidditch?" Ah, Quidditch. Quite possibly the only thing that can distract the male gender.
Breathing out, Sirius grinned shakily. "What self-respecting Marauder would I be if I didn't play Quidditch? Even Moony, with all the book-worminess in him, played Quidditch every now and then. Of course, he sucked, mind you… but he still played!"
Hermione was right… he really didn't think! Harry cursed at himself in his mind.
"Harry? You there?"
He jolted, before grinning. "Yeah. So you were on the team with my dad? What positions?"
"Ah, James was a chaser… but I… I was a beater. Best position on the team, if you asked me. Excellent opportunities to whack bludgers at the Slytherins without getting in trouble, not that we get caught if we went at them the normal way."
Sirius chuckled and Harry laughed. "The normal way?"
"Harry, we wouldn't call ourselves the Marauders if we didn't do anything! We performed the most ingenious and unimaginable things ever through deep schemes that would lead whomever wish to find the culprit in circles."
Harry blinked as his mind slowly deciphered whatever his godfather just spouted out, and drank some more butterbeer to buy himself some time. Merlin, the drink was much better than the pumpkin juice served in the Great Hall.
"Pranking, you mean?"
"…Yeah."
"Why couldn't you say that in the beginning then?!" Harry stifled a bout of chuckles.
"Why, Harry, where would be the fun in that?" Sirius grinned, and Harry saw a glimpse of the man that he used to be. "You play Quidditch? Wait, stupid question. Of course you do! You're a Potter. The entire bleeding family's obsessed with the sport! …Unless you took after Lilyflower?" At this realization, he clutched at his chest in mock horror. "Please! Please tell me you play Quidditch, Prongslet!"
At this, Harry burst out laughing at Sirius's theatrics. "Haha, I've been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team since First Year."
Sirius stared. "First Year?"
Harry grinned proudly. Finally, something that he was good at, and he could tell his godfather. "Yup, youngest Seeker in a century."
He stared at Harry adoringly, before looking at him critically, and all of a sudden, Harry felt the same discomfort as he did when he met Oliver for the first time. "You're definitely built for Seeker. James was the captain, but we all knew that I was the brains and the brawn behind the team." Sirius winked and gave a crooked grin. "Well, he did some things, but…" And he shrugged a bit.
"If you were in First Year, then someone must have recommended you…?"
"Ah, McGonagall."
Sirius's mouth fell open. "Minnie? Minnie recommended you?"
"And it was all thanks to the Slytherins."
Harry laughed as Sirius looked even more shocked.
"The… the Slytherins?" He squeaked out, wide-eyed.
And he had to explain the entire story with Malfoy, Neville, and the Rememberall.
"Wow… Gryffindors lost the House Cup for seven years? In a row?"
Harry nodded sadly, before scrunching up his eyebrows. "What did you call me before? Prongslet?"
"Eh, it's a nickname we Marauders made for you when you were younger."
Harry perked up at this.
Harry stared into the bathroom mirror. He and Sirius ended up talking for rest of the night and only stopped because Phoam had Apparated into the room, claiming that breakfast was ready and they needed to go clean themselves up.
"How stupid can you get, Harry?" He murmured to himself, still angry that he had asked Sirius what had dreamed about, right after he dreamt it. He should know first-hand, that explaining nightmares was just like reliving it again.
Shaking his head, he quickly turned on the faucet and splashed his face with water, shivering slightly when the freezing water met his skin.
Wiping his face with a towel, he smiled into it. It smelled like it was freshly washed, and reminded him of the ones in Hogwarts. His father was captain of the Quidditch team. How did no one bother to mention that to him? Perhaps he could ask McGonagall for some more stories. From what he gathered, they, being the Marauders, knew McGonagall pretty well. Perhaps it was the same the other way around as well.
A pair of blue eyes stared down at the paper in his hands.
WHERE IS HARRY POTTER?
It appears that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has fled from home, as Aurors arrived at a Muggle dwelling to undo the effects of accidental magic cast by said Harry Potter. The Ministry officials are not giving any details, but it appears that Mr. Potter has simply disappeared into mid-air.
And to add to the concern, with the mass murderer, Sirius Black, on the loose, Mr. Potter is not as safe as we would hope…
Dumbledore sighed heavily before setting the paper down, shaking his head tiredly. He stood and paced, attempting to figure out what his next move should be then.
"How could you let this story leak out?!" One Cornelius Fudge yelled, grasping at his hair. He knew that before long, owls would start flying in, and he would be held responsible for Harry Potter's well-being. "Find the boy! I don't care how you do it, just do it!"
He breathed out, before turning to a bowl that was situated on a table next to the fireplace, contemplating on whether or not he should swallow his pride again and ask for help from the one man he knew could actually do anything.
A/N: How was it? I hope it wasn't too bad~ Please review and tell me what you think! I'll be able to update faster, especially since I sorta know where I'm gonna take this fanfic. Thank you for reading!