The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of the usual excess of homework and studying, broken up by Quidditch practice, chats with Sirius, and the occasional game or trip to visit Hagrid. Even with the Easter holidays approaching, very few of Harry's classmates could muster up much enthusiasm.

Almost everyone in their year was remaining at school, resigned to spending their "break" loaded with assignments and studying for the upcoming exams. Hermione, of course, provided Harry and Ron with study schedules, which they accepted without complaint.

"At least we only have the end of term exams this year, instead of the OWLs," Ron commented a few evenings before the holiday would begin.

Harry nodded. "Not that they'll be much easier, but at least our entire future isn't at stake this year."

"No, that's next year," Hermione reminded them.

They groaned, knowing that she was both right, and happy about it.

Harry didn't tell his friends that actually going to Hogwarts next year was not a given for him. He knew better than to believe that he was truly safe in the castle, having faced death there more than once. Nor was he the exception. Katie Bell still hadn't recovered from the necklace, and as far as anyone knew, she might not. Certainly, she'd have to redo her seventh year, even if she woke up today. Besides, Sirius was a far better teacher than nearly all of the ones on staff. Harry thought it was likely that he might actually get a chance to explore the beach with him at some point during the holiday.

"I wish you could come with me," he told them the night before the last day of classes.

Sirius would be arriving the following evening, and then Apparating them both to the family house.

"I wish I was, too," Ron said, with enthusiasm. "But Mum says it's too risky."

Based on what Sirius had told Harry, she likely had said a good many other things, or strongly hinted at them. Yet, the house was as strongly protected as Grimmauld Place, thanks to the protections added by the Black family. It was Unplottable, it contained Sirius as the Secret Keeper, and if an unsuspecting muggle came too close, they would suffer immediate pain. There were other protective charms (and hexes) in place, but those were the ones Harry recalled. And because Sirius alone was the Secret Keeper, Harry could not even speak the name of the house out loud.

"Perhaps this summer, once your mum sees we're still alive," Harry offered. "After Bill and Fleur's wedding, that is."

"Is that where you'll be spending the holiday?" Hermione asked, sounding almost envious.

Harry placed the last robe in his trunk, then closed it. "Dunno. We have to return to Privet Drive for the first two weeks for her blood protection to last. I reckon Sirius will want to spend a bit of time at Grimmauld Place, make sure Kreacher hasn't crept back in and hung his mum's portrait over the entrance"-Here, Ron and Hermione both winced. "-Or, y'know, contacted any Black Death Eaters or anything like that. Then, there's the wedding. I expect we might spend the last month at the beach." He shrugged again. "I'll just be happy to be with him and away with the Dursleys-for good. Don't expect we will have an emotional goodbye."

"I still can't believe that Dumbledore made you grow up there!" Ron said, hotly. At Hermione's look of protest, he added, "He slept in a cupboard for ten years! And there were bars over the windows when we broke him out!"

"Saved me from more than barred windows, you and your brothers did," Harry reminded him. "I reckoned I would starve to death before term ever started."

"But what about the blood protection?" Hermione asked, softly. "It did keep you safe, Harry."

"I reckon there are potions and charms that could have done the job just as well," Ron said, dismissively. "Harry, it's a good thing you don't hate the man. I reckon he could go to Azkaban for the rest of his life, sending you to live with them."

Harry doubted it. While the tides had turned against the headmaster during his fifth year, he had certainly regained his lost prestige. Anyway, what was done was done.

"I don't expect he'll live much longer, anyway," Harry reminded him. "His hand looks worse than ever."

"Cursed rings can do that. You should hear some of the stories Bill's told me." Ron shuddered. "He got off easy."

Harry thought again about Katie. Would she ever wake up?

The following evening, just after dinner, Harry headed back to the Gryffindor tower to wait for Sirius. The plan was for them to take the Floo network to Grimmauld Place, and from there, Sirius would Apparate them to Isolated Cottage.

"It's not as gloomy as it sounds, especially after Remus and I cleaned it up," he'd told a bewildered-looking Harry. "I swear. It's larger than we need, large enough to fit your entire year and more, but we won't need more than a few rooms. It's quite pleasant looking."

"I believe you," Harry had assured him, with a laugh. "You have to admit, though, that your family has a knack for giving places gloomy names."

Sirius had grinned at this assessment.

Now, Harry only had to wait for a few minutes, clutching his trunk with the feather-light charm applied, before the familiar face of his godfather appeared in the flames. Expertly, the older man banished the door from his robes with a simple flick, and then turned his focus towards his godson.

"All packed and ready?" he asked, brightly.

Harry nodded, feeling a smile form on his lips. Sure, he'd be doing homework and studying the entire time, but he'd be spending the week with his godfather, and it would be a change of scenery.

"What about you? Where's your trunk?" Harry asked, noticed Sirius' empty hands-aside from his wand.

"I set everything straight while giving the house a good clean. Thought I might as well leave some spare robes and the like there. You might want to do so as well," Sirius added, with a nod at Harry's trunk. "Saves you the trouble of packing as much each time."

Harry nodded. It certainly couldn't hurt to have a few sets of clothes and pajamas there. He already had some at Grimmauld Place.

"Yeah, I reckon I'll do that. Thanks."

Another smile. "No need to thank me. It's as much your home as mine, and will become yours after I die-not that I expect to before at least a hundred years pass," Sirius added, quickly. "And by then, you'll be well into your hundred's."

Harry groaned. "I'd like to survive my exams, first."

"Ah yes, priorities," Sirius allowed, eyes shining. "In that case, if you'll follow me..."

Harry had become rather used to traveling by Floo over the years, but he still tracked in soot upon his arrival. Fortunately, he could Vanish that easily enough. Then, hand linked firmly in Sirius', came the part of the journey Harry was least looking forward to. He didn't know if Apparation got any easier once you controlled it yourself, but his stomach still seized up as his body seemed to contort into an impossibly small space. Once he could breathe again, he felt as though he'd been holding his breath underwater for at least a minute.

Sirius, looking sympathetic, murmured soothing words and ran a hand along Harry's back until he felt that he could move without falling over.

"Does it get any easier?" he asked, more weakly than he would have liked.

Sirius considered the question. "I always find it better when I am the one doing the Apparating, but I would say that you become fully used to it after several successful trips. This is only your second, isn't it?"

"I think so," Harry answered.

"Perfectly normal, then, to still feel a bit...uneasy. Shall I make us some tea? Or hot chocolate, perhaps?" Sirius offered. "Remus would advise you to choose the chocolate."

Harry knew this was true, and chose that option. As they headed into the kitchen, he peered around the surrounding rooms. The room they had entered was very spacious, perhaps a sitting room, with a large (though unlit) fireplace. Several large chairs and couches filled the area, and were it not for the dark colors, they almost would have fit in with the Gryffindor common room furniture. Portraits of witches and wizards from Sirius' family lined the green walls, all looking rather curious, and none yelling obscenities. It was a promising start.

"The portraits are far nicer than your mum's," Harry remarked, taking a seat at the table.

Sirius chuckled. "We destroyed the ones who shared her temperament. Thankfully, that was easy enough with the right set of charms. The ones you saw are not exactly the ones burnt off the tapestry, but they're hardly the most vocal about pure blood ideology. Also," Sirius added, contemplatively, "I reckon that some might have lived when witch hunts were going on, and the fear of muggles was not unwarranted. Not that a muggle fire than kill us."

"I know. I wrote all about medieval witch burnings for Binns. Summer before my third year. Then, we studied it all year long," Harry recalled.

Thanks in part to the ice cream shop owner, it had been his exam with his second highest mark. Not that the OWL had asked for much of what he'd learned. Whoever wrote the exam had been far more interested in goblin rebellions.

Sirius chuckled a bit. "Your dad and I-Remus, as well-reckoned that History of Magic would have been a popular class if Dumbledore had sacked Binns and hired a competent teacher. He was a ghost when I had him. Sir Nicholas said that he had died in the 1800's. Perhaps no headmaster wanted the bother of hiring a new professor."

"He passed Umbridge's inspection, but he's the type of teacher she likes. Kills students from boredom," Harry remarked, taking a sip of hot chocolate.

"Boredom is one of the worst ways to go. Takes the longest, too," Sirius joked.

Harry grinned, and they enjoyed their hot chocolate in silence for awhile.

When Harry could hardly keep his eyes open, Sirius levitated his trunk and steered him in the direction of the stairs.

"Time for bed, pup," he murmured, giving Harry's shoulders a squeeze.

Harry slept better that night than he had in ages. Perhaps it was the familiar and calming presence of Sirius next to him, his guardian's arms wrapped around his frame in the standard, protective hug. Or being away from Hogwarts, even loaded with work. Or the ocean nearby. Harry had never even been to the beach before, but he had fallen asleep to hearing the waves crashing against the shore, and it had felt very reassuring. Not unlike having a lie-in on a very rainy day. Back when he had been a child, sleeping in his cupboard during a rainstorm had been almost pleasant. Now, it was downright relaxing.

Sirius shifted, then rose, pulling Harry a bit closer before letting him go.

"Sleep well, pup?"

"Really well. Think it was being so close to the ocean?" Harry asked, straightening and glancing at Sirius.

"Likely so. The ocean can have a calming effect on the mind. I would have preferred to use this house over Grimmauld Place for headquarters, but Dumbledore thought the latter was better." Sirius looked sour for a moment. "I expect that being cooped up on the beach would have still been bloody awful, but less awful than my childhood home."

"Did you come here often as a child?"

Sirius shook his head. "My uncle only purchased it a few years before he died. Which is why cleaning it up was far easier. He might not have been entirely free of the dark arts, but I knew that I was in far more danger of choking on dust than strangling robes." He smiled, then. "Your mum and dad used it for their honeymoon. They loved it. Half expected you to be born sooner than you did."

Harry reddened considerably. "Sirius!"

"Speaking of which, you know about...it, right?"

It was to his credit that Sirius looked uncomfortable.

"Yes!"

"Just checking. My father gave me and Regalus the details. Most human I ever saw him." He shook his head. "Shall we have breakfast?"

Harry had found, over the years of holiday homework, that he did best when he focused entirely on one lesson before turning to the next. This year, he was taking considerably fewer classes, but the number of assignments was numerous. Glancing at his notes detailing what he had to complete, he decided to begin with Herbology.

He told Sirius his plan, who nodded in understanding.

"One thing I would suggest, strongly suggest, is taking full on breaks for meals," Sirius said, mildly. At Harry's nod, he added, "And an hour or so break afterwards, to take a walk or something."

This was tempting. Harry hadn't even been outside of the house yet.

"Every day?" he asked, skeptically.

"We can start with today. I promise, you'll be surprised by how much more you accomplish this way," Sirius told him. "We often took these breaks at school. Your dad to fly, and we would laze around or borrow brooms or something."

"All right," Harry agreed.

He was almost a hundred pages into his Herbology textbook when he felt Sirius' hand on his shoulders.

"Ready for lunch?"

Harry's stomach let out a growl in response, resulting in a chuckle from his godfather.

After two helpings of steak and kidney pie apiece, eaten in companionable silence, Sirius rose.

"Shall we explore the beach a bit?"

"Sure!"

Easter had fallen in the second part of April this year, so while it certainly wasn't swimming weather, it felt nice enough to be outside in just their robes. Harry breathed in the salt air deeply, thoroughly enjoying the unfamiliar smell.

"You ever been to the beach before?" Sirius asked, watching Harry take in the surroundings.

Harry shook his head. "Closest I ever got was the lake in the second task. The Dursleys went on holiday with Dudley to Majorca, but I had to stay with Mrs. Figg."

"From the little I've seen of her, I would have thought you would prefer that," Sirius said, a note of questioning in his voice.

Harry shrugged. "She wasn't mean to me. Just had loads of cats and made me spend all my visits looking at pictures of them. Told me last summer that if they thought I liked being there, she wouldn't have been able to look after me."

Sirius snorted. "Should have made sure you had a good time but warned you to pretend you hadn't."

"Maybe." Harry shrugged. "Is it a bit odd? That I have met two squibs and they're both in the magical world, and one in the Order?"

"Perhaps a bit. When my grandparents were alive, they said that the best thing to do was either kill the child or send them to live with muggles after casting a memory charm."

"Your grandparents would have murdered their own child?"

"Does that really surprise you?" Sirius asked, rather bluntly. "Mind you, I don't think it ever happened in my family. Mostly, it was the other option. Everyone thought it was the best choice for everyone. The child would be raised by people without magic, ideally a distant muggle relative, and the family would be spared the shame."

Harry nodded, turning his gaze towards Sirius. His face had become hardened, the way it usually did upon talking about his family, and his hands had become fists. Taking a deep breath, his stance relaxed.

"Remus says I'm still processing my foul childhood, or some such thing. Thinks it would do me a world of good to see a Mind Healer," he added, rather slowly.

"Is that a bit like a wizarding therapist?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded, then shrugged. "From what Remus says, anyway. I've never been to one. Your grandparents offered to take me to one, after they adopted me, but I didn't want to burden them with that. Then, there was the war, and Azkaban, and being in hiding... I reckon that something will always come up," he added, with a self-deprecating laugh.

It was Harry's turn to shrug. He'd known before about Sirius' mostly rotten family, and of course, his time in Azkaban. Probably, talking to someone professional could help. Right now, though, Sirius seemed to be doing all right.

They walked along the sand in silence. The waves crashed against the sand, sometimes pulling the seashells closer to shore, but never came close to Harry and Sirius. At one point, they stopped walking and just admired the view.

"It's a bit calming, isn't it?" Harry asked, almost tentatively. "Being here, I can almost forget about the mountain of homework waiting, and the end of term exams."

Sirius chuckled, then placed an arm around Harry's shoulders. "That it is. We'll come back this summer, too. You'll really be able to enjoy it then."

The days passed in a routine manner. Harry and Sirius rose early, no later than seven, and after breakfast, Harry set to work. He often asked Sirius for help or clarification, and Sirius would know the answer without even having to consult the textbook. It certainly sped up his assignments, as well as his reading. The textbooks had become considerably more dense over the years. After several hours of work, they ate lunch, and then took a break. Often, they walked outside, and Sirius would regale Harry with stories about his and James' time at Hogwarts. Sirius hadn't brought the Pensieve, but it hadn't mattered. Harry soaked in Sirius' stories, especially ones that featured his parents. Then, it was back to work until dinner. Harry (and Sirius, by extension) never worked after dinner. Harry reckoned that he was putting at least eight hours into his homework and studying as it was, and his head quite hurt by the time he and Sirius ate. Sirius, too, thought that Harry should take a break-it was, officially, at least-the Easter holidays. So, they spent a few hours between dinner and going to bed having fun. Sometimes, playing wizarding or muggle games, but more often, Harry would listen to Sirius tell him stories about his parents, and about his time at Hogwarts. Then, no later than nine, they would get ready for bed.

Harry found that he was sleeping better at Sirius' beach cottage than he would have expected, what with all the studying he was putting in during the day. Perhaps, it was the comfort of being able to sleep next to his godfather once more. His cat, Tuxy, was certainly a welcome presence, but the cat couldn't hold him the way Sirius could. Harry hadn't had any nightmares since his arrival, and he could attribute that to numerous things, but he knew that his godfather's protective, caring presence had a great deal to do with this.

Things had gone so well in the homework department that Harry was surprised to find that he had finished his assignments nearly three days before he and Sirius had to leave. This meant, of course, even more time for Harry to hear stories about his parents during their walks on the beach. The Friday before the end of holidays, it was quite warm and sunny when Sirius told Harry a bit more about how his mum and dad had began dating.

"As you know, pup," Sirius began, smiling as he recalled the memory, "they didn't start dating until their seventh year. James had stopped being such a prat around his sixth year, mind, but Lily didn't see the difference until they were head boy and girl together. James was never a prefect, although Lily was in her fifth and sixth year, and she rather avoided him because, well, she saw him as a prat," Sirius explained, halfway through the Easter holiday. "And I expect that once she saw how loyal and smart and kind your dad could be, Lily allowed herself to like him. They were nearly inseparable by the end of our last year." Sirius made a mock-pained face. "It was a bit repulsive, really. I was dating Marlene and both Remus and Peter had girlfriends, although less serious, but no one looked as in love as your mum and dad. I expect that they would have spent even more time together had it not been for their NEWTs. By the time the term was over, pup, they were practically engaged."

Harry grinned. "And after Hogwarts?"

"They joined the Order together. Well, we all did," Sirius corrected himself. "Mind, it was as much work as any job would be, and none of us really needed the money one would provide. Remus lived with James in his house, and my uncle had given me money for my own place. After they married, James insisted on giving Remus money for a place to live, and he reluctantly accepted. He could have stayed with me, only Marlene was over loads...until they murdered her." Sirius' face darkened. "Not long after, your parents had to go into hiding, and I reckon you know the rest of that."

Harry nodded, forcing himself to look at Sirius, knowing that the story had taken a much darker turn. "It's Wormtail's fault, Sirius. He betrayed them."

Sirius swallowed hard. "I never would have expected it of him. Peter wasn't as clever or brave as the rest of us, but we never held it against him. We always helped him with schoolwork, even when it meant less time for us to study or, for some of us, spend time with our girlfriends. He was a brother to us, Harry. Until he betrayed us."

"He said that Voldemort would have killed him..."

"And how's Voldemort to know who the Secret Keeper was unless Wormtail told him?" Sirius asked, voice hardening. "I would have died for all of them. I even expected to. But if Voldemort killed me, I believed that he would have realized that he would never find your parents. And with me dead..." He trailed off, and placed both hands on Harry's shoulders. "It was a bloody stupid thing to do, I know that now. Only, we thought it was right for everyone back then."

"Sure, looking back," Harry agreed. "I reckon, looking back, we could have kept Wormtail from escaping on that night in my third year. Sure wish I'd known a Summoning Charm back then."

"Full body bind would have done," Sirius added. "It was my responsibility, pup. I should have known that he would try to escape."

They walked in silence for a bit, and Harry knelt down to pick up a seashell. He'd started collecting particularly pretty or interesting ones during their walks, although he wasn't entirely sure what he would do with them all. Perhaps, he'd end up dumping them all out on the beach. All the same, it was a fun pastime.

"Tell me more about my parents?" Harry asked, almost shyly, straightening up.

Sirius wrapped a hand around his shoulder. "Did you know that after they started dating, your mum started wearing her hair differently?"

Of course, Harry did not, and he leaned in, waiting for more.

On the final day of the holiday, Harry and Sirius both felt a bit glum, although they tried not to let it show too much. Harry remembered the week leading up to his return to Hogwarts after Christmas the previous year, and was very relieved that Sirius was a free man and not confined to the house. Additionally, he would not be returning to face Umbridge and her thousands of decrees, nor the OWL exams which would follow. It would only be a little over two months of lessons, then exams, and then he and Sirius would return (briefly) to Privet Drive before enjoying their holiday.

And he might not return for his final year. The Daily Prophet was no longer hiding the fact that Voldemort was back or that deaths and disappearances were a daily occurrence. Just how much safer was Hogwarts, compared to Grimmauld Place? Not very, considering how many times Harry had nearly died. Besides, as Harry witnessed firsthand, Sirius and Remus were far better teachers than anyone else on the staff.

After a final walk along the beach, this time closer to dinnertime, Harry packed up the remains of his belongings and Sirius pulled him into yet another bear hug.

"Don't forget, there's the final Quidditch game of the season," Sirius reminded Harry, with a grin. "I expect that will be held before exams."

"I expect so, but I haven't heard anything about it." Harry smiled. "I'm not too worried. 'Course, I'll continue with the practices and fly my best, but we are up by well over two hundred points."

Sirius chuckled. "Yes, the Cup might as well have Gryffindor's name on it for this year."

A trip to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius gave Harry a final hug, and Harry took a pinch of floo powder for the last trip to the Gryffindor common room fireplace.

He arrived with far less grace than Sirius had, and only barely managed to Vanish the soot from his robes when Ron and Hermione pulled him into a hug.

"How was it?" they asked at once.

Harry couldn't hold back a smile. "It was great spending the week with Sirius. Sure, I spent most of the time doing homework, but we got to walk along the beach, and Sirius would tell me stories about my parents."

Ron grinned. "You'd think they'd lay off the homework the one year between OWLs and NEWTs, but I swear, I don't think I ever did so much reading or writing. My eyes and hands are ready to fall off."

Hermione made a snorting sound, but there was a look of affection on her face. "There's less time between the holiday and the exams this year than ever. Only nine weeks!"

Ron made a similar noise. "You know everything that we'll be tested on, and even started learning the spells for next year. I reckon you could stop studying now and still get full marks."

Hermione didn't look as scandalized at the idea as she would have in their early years, but she did make a disapproving sound at Ron's dismissal of spending every waking moment studying.

The two weeks that followed were as brutal as ever, if not more so. One consolation was that Katie Bell had returned from St. Mungo's, and although Harry privately wondered if she would ever be ready to take her NEWTs, she was all too eager to resume her role as Chaser.

This meant that their chances of winning the Cup had gone up even more. It also was rather bad news for Dean, since he would no longer be needed to fill her role as Chaser.

"You'll be our reserve," Harry told him. "And next year, if Katie's not back, you'll be back on the team in her place."

"Right," Dean answered, a bit bluntly, casting a look at Ginny. "Well, if anything changes and she's not up for it, I'll be here."

Harry expected Ginny to reassure Dean, but she refused to meet his gaze. After dismissing the team, he turned to Ron.

"What's up with Ginny and Dean? Are they having a fight?" he murmured, checking to make sure that his sister was well out of hearing range.

"They broke up while you were away," Ron explained, turning a bit red. "Sorry, I forgot to mention it."

Harry felt his heart lurch, just a bit. "Oh."

"Yeah, she was always going on about how he kept treating her like she couldn't do anything on her own. Opening doors for her, pulling out her seat for her, that sort of thing. I didn't understand any of it, so I asked Hermione, and she said that some girls like 'gentleman behavior' like that, and others don't. Ginny's of the sort that doesn't, evidently, and I reckon it got too much for her to be ignored like that." Ron made a face. "I just hope she doesn't date Seamus or Neville next."

The match against Ravenclaw was scheduled for the second Saturday in May, and Harry later wondered what would have happened if, the Wednesday before the match, events had gone a bit differently.

Hermione had gone to see Professor Vector about a mistake she thought she might have made in her last essay. Ron, in a fit of nerves, had rushed off into a bathroom to throw up. Harry was thinking about the match and not paying much attention to where he was going when he walked into a suit of armor. The crash made him run in the opposite direction, less Filch show up, and he reckoned that he would be safest hiding out in the bathroom for the time being.

Except, there was Draco Malfoy, actually crying, and Moaning Myrtle, actually comforting him. Harry should have bolted, then, but he felt strangely sorry for his archenemy. He couldn't see Malfoy's face, with his hands covering his head, but his tears were hardly the crocodile tears from when he'd been bitten by Buckbeak.

"Don't," the ghost was practically crooning. "Don't...tell me what's wrong...I can help you."

Harry very much doubted that a ghost could do anything to help Malfoy, unless it was to provide information.

"No one can help me," Malfoy answered. "I can't do it...I can't...it won't work...and unless I do it soon...he says he'll kill me."

It was then that Malfoy, through his gasps and shudders, looked into the mirror, and saw Harry.

A brief duel occurred as the two drew their wands. Whatever Malfoy's hex was, it missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp against the wall besides him. Harry threw himself sideways, thought Expelliarmus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy easily blocked the jinx and raised his own wand for another.

"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly throughout the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"

This time, Harry's jinx-a Leg-Locker Curse, hit Malfoy. Before he could run, though, Malfoy hurled back with a "Crucio!"

Then, there was only pain. Harry couldn't see through it. He remembered this curse, from Voldemort, but coming from Malfoy, it was as though he had re-opened a wound that had nearly healed.

It was worse this time. Far worse.

And then, Harry felt nothing.

Author's note:

I'd intended to make the ending of this chapter a larger focus of the chapter. However, I realized AFTER I wrote the preview that I hadn't included anything about Harry's Easter break, and I really wanted to do that. Also, how much can you really write about a duel cut short by Malfoy using an Unforgivable?

I HAD always intended this chapter to end with Harry losing consciousness. As far as why the curse hit him harder than it had when Voldemort used it, you're welcome to speculate, but it will be revealed (or as much as it can be known will be revealed) in the next chapter.

Suffice it to say that Harry has quite a recovery ahead of him.

As always, constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated! As well as theories for future chapters. Who knows-I might be inspired to use one!

Next up:

Harry faces the aftermath of the Cruciatius Curse. And Snape proves to be both villain and ally. So, really, nothing THAT much different than usual.