Solitude was no stranger to Sirius Black. It didn't mean that he sought it out, not after he lost years of his life to loneliness and despair. Before Azkaban, he'd been the picture of gregariousness. Every effort his family made to stifle him, control him, just made him louder and bolder. He loved the company of others, especially his friends. Life was all the more enjoyable when its splendours were shared and experienced alongside kindred spirits. Without that, there was silence, an absence of frivolity that made life stale and meaningless. Solitude reminded Sirius too much of being a prisoner within his own mind.

The nights at Grimmauld Place were undoubtedly the worst. Silence warped in the darkness, corners quaking where they concealed the demons of the house's dark past. Even the whispers of threatening madness diminished, denied even their company. Sirius took to retreating into the room that once was the master bedroom where his abominable parents pretended to share a bed and maintain appearances. Buckbeak had already turned the beds into kindling, rat bones littering the floor along with general debris. Leaving the room in a state left him with savage satisfaction. One of few positive feelings he could muster up.

The weekend began hopeful, his visit to Hogwarts his first escape from the house in months. Seeing Harry lifted his spirits higher than they'd been in a while, yet the reunion had been bittersweet. What freedom they both enjoyed had been an illusion. He was still a wanted man and Harry had criminal charges hanging over him. Returning to Grimmauld Place alone left him hollow, feeling the loneliness creeping in as if dementors lurked in the house along with all the other dark delights his family left him.

Genuine joy for Remus fizzled out. Relief for Harry then dwindled next. By the time Monday dawned on the Black family house, bleakness made its home there. Sirius curled next to Buckbeak, a dog nap a good way to escape the grip of his dark mood.

He dreamt of Harry calling to him. Just repeating his name, voice getting increasingly exasperated. Sirius shifted in his sleep before the thought of why Harry was calling to him interrupted his slumber. Harry's voice followed him into wakefulness.

"Ugh. How do I even turn this thing off?" Harry frustratedly asked, his voice clear and close. Sirius dragged himself into his human form, magic stretching and bending him into his natural body. His transformation was seamless from many years of passing between his forms. He rose to his feet to search for the source of Harry's voice.

The mirror was exactly where he left it, propped against the ruins of a dressing table. When he approached, his breath caught in his throat and for a split second. Memories chimed into life. Memories of stowing the mirror in his school robes and sneakily peaking in his pocket to speak to James as he shared his plans for their next heist into Hogsmeade in mid-detention. He clearly remembered using the mirror in that very house, though not in that room. Two floors up in his own bedroom where they both howled with laughter where they revisited their exploits together. James did his best to make Sirius feel less alone in his personal, private hell.

He dropped down to his knees, gathering the blessed mirror, a true smile blooming on his face. Happiness returned, nostalgia burning brightly through the bleakness of his tormented mind. The face waiting for him to help ease his loneliness wasn't James Potter but the presence of his son was no less welcome.

"Finally!" Harry croaked out.

Sirius could tell from the angle that Harry had put the mirror on his bed, supported against the headrest. Harry's brow furrowed a little, concentrating as he adjusted his mirror, angling it so Sirius had a good view of him. It was a view that Sirius desperately needed as he hastily arranged himself to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"You figured out how to use it then?" Sirius felt slightly light-headed. The fact that he hadn't eaten since Sunday morning likely was the cause as well as his sudden mood change.

"Yeah, wow… this is amazing. Can you hear me okay?"

Harry's awe stirred more glowing emotions in Sirius. His hands came away, the mirror now steady and not moving.

"Loud and clear." Sirius said hoarsely, a lump threatening to rise up in his throat. "I take it you're on your own if you're speaking to me."

"Hmmhm. Just me." Harry shifted around, his fidgeting making Sirius's perspective lurch around nauseatingly. "Sorry about… you know… not using this before."

"Don't worry about it. All that matters is that you're using it now. What's the news with you?"

Harry just stared, his mouth hanging open for a moment, the wide look in his eyes so innocent and normal, it made Sirius's heart give a shudder. His smile remained, pulling upwards in the corner. Sirius focused on the dimple, stunned. Lily had a dimple just like it. Drove James wild. He thought, amused before he reminded himself that he was thinking about Harry's parents while Harry started to talk. He focused back on the living.

"It's looking more and more likely that Fudge will resign. I'm not sure if you've seen the paper, but he's lost the public's opinion pretty drastically. No one is willing to believe that he was completely unaware about what Umbridge was up to at Hogwarts. They've accused him of using a school as his 'political playground'."

Sirius rested his chin on his hands, watching Harry and listening.

"I heard from the Wizengamot this morning. I've… um… been formally summoned to stand as the key witness to testify against Umbridge. I have no choice but to go."

His bubbling joy was immediately under threat. Sirius clenched his hands in his lap, gritting his teeth.

"When do you have to go?"

"Wednesday morning. I'm the first to be called forward and it's going to be super private. No press or public allowed. Then all the other witnesses will be after me. I'm getting smuggled in with a portkey directly to the courtroom then back out again but… I'm still going to be there along with all the others."

Sirius nodded, trying very hard to not let his stress show. Harry had little choice about returning back to the Ministry where he was at risk. He noticed Harry watching him nervously.

"Sirius…" Harry shifted forwards, leaning over so his face was so close to the mirror, his hair nearly brushed against the glass. "I can't shake this feeling that he isn't going to sit back and watch the Ministry's drama without doing something. I know I'll be safe with my platoon of guards but I know I'm not the real target at the moment." He whispered, his voice still coming through the connection clearly as if he was right there with Sirius in the room.

"I know. I feel it too, Harry." Sirius said honestly. "We all do. It's just like last time where we start to dread these quiet moments just as much as when we're having curses raining down on us. All we can do is prepare as best we can. You've done well on that front - getting the Ministry on high alert. They would be pretending that there's no threat if not for you."

Harry grimaced but looked resigned at his point. He nodded, appearing a little more relaxed.

"Have you heard about seeing that Healer yet?" Sirius asked.

"Yes actually. She's coming tonight."

"Good. I know it's not an easy thing to talk about but it's good to get it out of your system before you go to court on Wednesday. I don't just mean talking about what Umbridge did during those detentions."

Harry's eyes flickered between his, his brow furrowed.

"You want me to talk to her about my scar? This soon?"

Sirius hesitated when he saw the flash of fear on Harry's face. He had to be very careful with what he said next.

"I think it's best that you face Umbridge with official proof that you aren't suffering from delusions or have any signs of schizophrenia. That's what she and Fudge are trying to claim, correct? Not that they even know much about the condition to even make a diagnosis."

He caught a slight hint of recognition in Harry's eyes at the medical term. Sirius knew that mental conditions weren't openly labelled among wizards but Harry had been around enough muggles to have much more of an open mind. Sirius only knew of such terms because of Harry's own mum who had an interest in the subject.

"I'm not sure that they think I have a split personality but I guess they are trying to make out that I'm nuts."

"They don't know a thing about psychology. If you go in with proof that you don't have any brain damage, they won't be able to question your sanity with what little evidence they have. I know it's a lot to expect you to talk with a stranger about this, but if it puts all arguments about your state of mind to rest, it's worth it, don't you think?"

Harry let out a long breath. "I already planned to have a healer take a closer look at my scar. I just… didn't expect to have to talk about it all so soon." He met Sirius's eyes. "I'm not quite sure how to explain to someone about how I have some of Voldemort's magic lodged in my head."

Sirius felt his stomach twist at Harry's blunt description of his scar. He had always suspected that there was a lot more to it than just magic but then, he had insights into dark magic that not many on their side of the conflict had. He'd witnessed his own family taking part in dark rites, sacrifices and all sorts of illegal practices. He knew how possible it was that Harry could have taken on part of Voldemort's lifeforce. Potentially even a part of his soul.

"Once we have a better understanding about what is actually going on rather than Dumbledore's theories, we can think about actual ways to remove the problem rather than just expecting you to live with it. I know, you'll argue that it's useful…" Sirius cut into his own argument when he saw Harry open his mouth to protest. "But it's not doing you any good. Anything that hurts you as much as it does can't be any good."

Harry frowned then. "I can take a bit of pain if it helps us save lives." He said firmly.

"This isn't you having premonitions that give us an edge in battle, Harry. This is you seeing real, traumatising events that you have no control over stopping. What if there isn't a way for you to help or save who you see getting hurt? What then?"

Sirius inwardly winced at his harsh approach. Harry's frown was gone, as was his defiance.

"I didn't think of it that way." Harry said after a moment of thinking it through.

"No, because no one ever took the time to actually talk to you about it properly with a hint of empathy. Instead, you were passed over to a man who quite literally has none. As if Snape would help you out of the kindness of his heart…" He shook his head angrily but did his best to not think about the greasy git. "If we ever needed a second opinion, now is the time."

Harry nodded then, rubbing his hand over his scar.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight."

"Good man." Sirius said, a relieved grin crawling to life over his face. "You don't have to go about it all on your own. I must admit, I was surprised at how protective Minerva is of you. I suspect she's been waiting for the excuse to take over your care. You should know, during the meetings in the Order when we argued about leaving you with the muggles over the summer, she was the most against it out of us all."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Really?"

"Yes - it turns out that she's been arguing with Dumbledore since you were left there in the first place. With her now as your guardian, I suspect she'll overturn where you stay during the summer for good."

Harry had gone still. His eyes round, almost bulging. It took Sirius too much time to notice that Harry was shocked.

"Oh… I never really thought that far ahead." Harry said faintly, then he grinned. "If this all works out, I don't have to go back there ever again."

Sirius smiled, wishing he could reach through the mirror and ruffle Harry's hair.

"No, Harry. If this works out, I can finally make do on that promise I made to you the first time we met. You can move in with me."

Harry's expression softened, appearing unguarded for a moment. It was a look that he wore more and more often. It showed a vulnerability that Harry only allowed around him. No one else. It set off strong protective feelings as well as a fierce need to drag Harry into his arms.

"I want that. You know I do." Harry said softly. He then reached out, his fingers pressing against the glass between them. Sirius sighed, bringing his hand over, his fingers coming to rest over Harry's It was the closest thing to contact that they could manage.

"I'll try to see you in person again." Sirius promised. Harry nodded, emotion causing him to tense his jaw and swallow. The vulnerable look remained though he said nothing else. His look conveyed enough.

He then sat up a little, looking upwards.

"That was the bell. Hermione will be here soon."

The soft look in Harry's eyes then shifted into something different as his gaze tracked around as if he was looking through the walls, following something unseen. Fresh nostalgia bloomed into life at the look on Harry's face, the unconstrained excitement and happiness. His smile was growing, whatever thoughts on his mind clearly were lifting his mood.

"Just Hermione? What about Ron?"

Harry's face then flushed. He pinched at his lip, pulling it, glancing between Sirius and whatever caught his attention earlier.

"I suppose I should tell you. I'm… sort of… um… I don't know what I'm actually doing. I know I'm not doing this the proper way. I should be doing things differently and it kinda just happened when we were alone together in the Ministry… but Hermione… she, er… isn't coming to visit me for very long. Just… enough to…."

Sirius barked out a laugh.

"I know exactly what you're both planning to do if you're getting this flustered."

Harry let out a choking sound, his blush extending to his neck. He even actually went to fuss with his collar, looking very hot.

"It's about bloody time!" Sirius exclaimed. "Remus will be over the moon… ah, probably not the best phrase." He added, distractedly. Then he grinned. "He kept suggesting for me to give you a push in the right direction. I was quietly confident you'd figure it out for yourself."

Harry was distracted, barely listening with his thoughts clearly elsewhere, until he registered what Sirius said. His eyes zipped back to Sirius.

"Wait, what? You both talked about me and Hermione?" He croaked out.

"Of course. We have a healthy interest in your life, Harry. I'm your godfather and Remus is sort of your mentor." Harry still looked mortified. "We were actually planning on giving you a talk but never got around it. Before Molly got her hands on you, that is. She was going to sit you down before I stepped in and told her that we'd handle teaching you the ins and outs of dating and relationships."

Harry slapped his hands over his face. "Oh thanks for sparing me of that experience."

"I should leave you to it so you can fix your hair before she gets there… brush your teeth too…" Harry moaned again in his hands. "I'm just teasing. I'm happy for you, really happy. I'm a bit biassed, considering that she broke the laws of time for me, but she's a special witch."

"It's not really come at the best time. I'm stuck here and… I just want to spend time with her."

"Then spend time with her. It doesn't matter that you're not taking her on walks around the Black Lake or finding a nice cosy broom cupboard." Sirius chuckled when Harry let out a dismayed moan again at the teasing. "I can trust you won't do anything to jeopardise things with your house arrest. Hermione's the most sensible person I've ever met. She'll keep you in line."

Harry lowered his hands, a crooked smile in place. Mischief danced in his eyes.

"She has her moments of irresponsibility."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Alright. I'll leave you to it."

Harry reached forwards, taking his mirror up from the bed. Sirius smiled warmly at his godson.

"I'll call before Wednesday. Tomorrow at the same time?" Harry asked. Sirius nodded. "How do I actually turn this off?"

"Just cover the glass to end the spell."

"Ah." Harry nodded, smiling back. "Thanks for… well, everything really. I'll tell Hermione you said hi."

"Make sure you do before you get too tongue tied."

Harry flushed again.

"Bye, Sirius."

"Talk tomorrow."

With a ripple, the view in the mirror distorted and shifted. In a second, Sirius was no longer looking out into Hogwarts but back at himself. The abrupt cut off always left him disorientated and it felt no different years on from the last time he used it. He found himself looking at the mirror but not truly looking, his reflection staring off into some space that he'd found mildly interesting while his mind went over the brief and illuminating conversation. Everything processed, he returned back to his full senses. He gathered the mirror up from the floor, tucking it under his arm before he ended up looking at himself. He didn't want his tired, pale and prematurely aged face to ruin his mood.

He found himself heading upstairs and wasn't even aware that he had a destination in mind until he slid into his own bedroom. Sunlight streamed through a gap in his curtains, dust motes swirling in the space. Even though he was living in the room, it still carried a disused air as if the room knew he was only staying there with half his heart invested.

As he stepped into the room, he was suddenly assaulted with a memory that had nothing to do with Harry or with anything he'd just been discussing with him. He suddenly remembered the first time he returned to Grimmauld Place after he'd been disowned. It had been the last time he'd seen his brother alive, their argument ending with Sirius in St Mungo's for the night to recover from their duel. It had taken a lot to convince James to not go after Regulus. The next time he braved returning to the house, it had been after he received the news that he had inherited it along with the full Black fortune from his brother who died in service to Voldemort. Regulus had made it his wish in his Will that Sirius be restored as the heir at his death. He showed up to the house with James, Remus and Peter in tow. They'd been drinking. They had staggered into the hallway, drunkenly exchanging insults with his mother's portrait, but then all the mirth drained out of him. Sirius never knew what happened after then, just that he woke up back at the Potters with a crippling hangover.

Sirius blinked, returning to the present where he stood alone in his bedroom. His shadow cast a dark silhouette on the wooden floor, dust swirling around him. He took in the decorations, smirking at how his mother never worked out how to counter his permanent sticking charm. He could picture her trying to pry the photographs off the walls, shrieking at Kreacher to help. He casually tossed the mirror onto the bed, heading to the wall where he knew there was a photograph of him with James when they were around the same age Harry was. Sure enough, muddled with the Gryffindor banners and the odd muggle centrefold he'd gotten his hands on, was the photograph.

As he kept his gaze fixed on James's laughing face, his fingers rested on the handle of his wand poking out of his robes. After speaking to Harry, seeing him flush over something so ordinary as his feelings for a girl, made Sirius all the more resolute that he had to do something. For James, he had to give Harry the best shot of living his life to the fullest. He had to fight for him, do more than just mope in the miserable old house. The Sirius Black of old had been a man of action, never content to sit back and let others do all the important work - not when there was credit to be had. His promises to not jeopardise Harry's case had to remain intact, but he simply could not stay idle in the house any longer. Harry may be safe in Hogwarts but his safety was a temporary thing. Harry was right. Voldemort was planning something and they all had to act before he got his chance.

A plan had come to him while alone with nothing else to do but to plot. He drew his wand. To do something so risky, he couldn't do it alone, but he couldn't drag Remus into such a scheme. Not when he was cooperating with the Ministry and the Aurors. He couldn't risk what Harry had achieved with their alliance. No… he would need to go outside the law but his accomplice had to be outside the law as well.

He raised his head, looking out to the high window, squinting into the stream of light. With a swish of his wand, filling his mind with the memory of holding Harry in his arms when he was a baby, he summoned forth his patronus. His silvery dog stood as tall as his animagus form, looking up at him with shimmering, glowing orbs. Sirius looked down at his counterpart grimly.

"I think it's about time you fixed your mistakes, Albus, don't you think?" He said to his patronus. "Come to my house tonight and bring a drink or you're not coming in."

With a flick of his wrist, he sent his ethereal messenger away.


Harry thought he knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to see the Healer again. After speaking with Sirius, he began to have his doubts. It played on his mind all day. When he voiced his doubts to Hermione, her understanding made him feel somehow more nervous. He'd already told her how galling the full medical scan had been the first time and how it exposed more than he ever wanted to have brought to light. He remembered how the medical examination had felt, the intrusive magic that pressed against him all over, the sensation akin to a violation that he didn't know was possible to experience. Yet he was confronted with a new fear. What if she found something wrong with him that wasn't physical? What if he did have mental problems as a result of the type of life he'd had?

It wouldn't be his fault. Any damage done to him wasn't his fault. Physical and mental. He just had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

Celia Travers arrived through the floo to not draw attention, dusting off her robes that blended in well with the vibrantly green flames. Harry stood awkwardly with Minerva where they received the Healer in her office. He shook her hand, meeting her gaze head on and remembering all too keenly how she had looked at him when she saw his deepest secret exposing itself one injury at a time. His nerves jangled inside him as he drifted in a half-daze to the seat that had been set up for him to take at the desk. Celia took the offered seat next to him, placing her bag of tools down at the floor, the same satchel that he'd seen her with at the Ministry. His knees immediately started bouncing when she sat down. Unlike him, her demeanour was of the perfect calm professionalism that one of her calling should possess.

Outside the window behind the new Headmistress's desk, the glass was inky black, sky overcast. It was late, past curfew so Ron and Hermione were back in the Common Room. Harry wished he had their support but there was little choice but to arrange the appointment late. Taking on the duties of the Headteacher as well as the Head of Gryffindor House and the Transfiguration professor made Minerva a very busy witch. Her role as his guardian had to take some compromises and Harry had to go along with it, which meant late meetings when she was done with marking assignments.

"I wouldn't usually take on private patients away from my position with the Ministry and with the Hospital. If this is something you would agree to, we can make an arrangement for me to see you secretly for appointments here after hours."

Celia spoke directly to Harry, propping her elbows on her lap where she leaned forwards. Harry fidgeted with his fingers on his lap, glancing up to Minerva briefly before realising that it was his choice to go ahead, no one else's. He frowned, breathing deeply.

"This isn't about what you saw on my medical report."

It spilled out of him. He sucked in a quick breath, surprised at his own honesty. He risked a look over to Celia, seeing her quickly cover up her reaction.

"It's about… what it didn't cover. About this." He pointed up at his forehead with a sharp, spasm of a gesture with his hand. "It said that it's a ' dark magic anomaly' but that barely touches it. Nothing about my scar makes any sense and it's no wonder that I'm being called insane because of it. I… I need answers and right now I don't care what I hear. I just need the truth and I need it from a Healer."

Celia sighed, her expression crumpling into one of concern.

"I wish I could tell you that I can cast a few diagnosis charms and run some tests to get to the bottom of it, but the truth is a lot more complicated than that. We are talking about something that has never happened before. Your scan registered an anomaly because our equipment didn't know what to make of your scar."

His stomach dropped. He searched her face quickly but he could see that she was being very honest with him.

"I… suppose that does make sense."

Next to him, Celia shifted in her seat so she was facing him.

"If you consent, I can run some tests tonight to confirm that your brain activity is within normal ranges, check for damage and scarring. We can have all this recorded - much like we did with your scan."

Harry nodded at once. "I don't know how much good it will do to convince them but it's something."

"It's despicable that it's necessary in the first place." Minerva snapped from her seat. Celia hummed her agreement as she got up from her seat. She picked up her heavy bag of tools, setting it down on the desk.

"Are you ready to begin?" She asked Harry. He nervously gripped at his legs, remembering Sirius's words that morning. This was something he had to do. He summoned what he could of his bravery, his legs finally stopping their bouncing. He looked up at Celia and offered a small nod.

"I am."


Albus Dumbledore was a shadow of his former self. In fact, observing that he appeared just old was almost a compliment. He looked ancient. Sirius had nearly been rendered speechless when the elderly wizard entered the house through the front door, permitted free entrance into the old building once more courtesy of Sirius's willingness to have a parlance. As he stepped into the flickering lights of the candelabra, the heavy lines etched in his face appeared deeper and far more numerous. If Sirius didn't know better, he'd almost believe that Dumbledore had been taking residence up with a family of dementors.

Fugitive life did not bode well for the powerful, once globally respected wizard. Gone were the flamboyant robes and bright garish colours. He'd done away with rich fabrics that betrayed the indulgent side of the man, the rather overgrown child who still ate too many sweets simply because he could. Instead, he had a rather shabby travel cloak thrown on over a pair of dark grey slacks with a shirt and knitted tank-top. Sirius nearly choked when he saw how he was dressed. If he didn't know better, he knew exactly where Dumbledore had rustled the clothes up from. His younger, lesser known brother, Aberforth. For Dumbledore to seek refuge there, he must have been desperate indeed.

Their reunion was almost unbearably awkward. Dumbledore asked after Sirius's health in a strange way to emulate his usual social ease but it was so out of place against his appearance. Eventually, he unearthed a bottle of Madame Rosmerta's Oak-Smoked Mead from under his cloak. Sirius led him into the kitchen then, desperate for a drink.

Conversation had been stilted at first until Dumbledore asked after Minerva and Remus. Sirius was far from surprised that Dumbledore knew that Remus had been reinstated as a professor. Even less surprised when Dumbledore confirmed that he was staying with his brother Aberforth in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. Just how the Aurors hadn't found him in such an obvious place was alarming. But then the Ministry never looked too closely at the patrons of the pub. Galleons had been passed under the tables for decades. Things were no different in current times.

Halfway into their second drink, talk turned to Harry. Sirius maintained his composure with as much control as he could muster, answering in clipped tones to assure the old wizard that Harry was faring very well (no thanks to him).

So Dumbledore was rather open to a subject change when Sirius went to talk of the reason why he'd offered an olive branch in the first place.

He downed a large mouthful of his drink, relishing the comforting warmth that it sent spreading through him. Encouraged and emboldened, Sirius leaned forwards, looking directly into the piercing blue eyes of the wizard who he once respected above anyone and followed without question.

"Why did you never consider destroying the prophecy?"

Dumbledore's brows lifted in a subtle sign of surprise. As masterful as his mask was, the abrupt and direct question wasn't something was prepared for. Sirius inwardly relished at the small victory.

"Getting into the Department of Mysteries is no simple matter as you know. To trespass and then perform an act of vandalism wouldn't go unnoticed."

"Surely it would have been worth the risk?" Sirius asked, keeping his voice as level as he could.

"How did that way of thinking suit us in the past? Risks cost lives and we have already lost too many fighting this war. To have the best chance in opposing Voldemort, we needed the numbers. Sending who we have into the Department of Mysteries to destroy a prophecy that we very much do not want the public having knowledge about could have crippled our advantage before we even have a chance to get ahead of Voldemort."

Sirius's face twisted in a bitter grimace. Ever the strategist, playing all the angles in his grand game against his opponent. Dumbledore spoke like a General discussing war tactics, not like a Headmaster of a school where his job should have been to primarily look after those in his care. He was an educator, first and foremost, supposedly. It shouldn't fall to him to marshall up forces in a war and yet, that was exactly what he had to do. It was no wonder Fudge assumed that the forces in his army had come from the school he was meant to be running.

"This had nothing to do with what the public believed. Their opinion is fickle and controlled at Fudge's whims. No, this was about what one particular person was supposed to know - and it wasn't Voldemort. You have been so determined to keep this a secret from Harry, you never thought that maybe it was best to just remove the danger altogether. Just how hard is it to sneak into the Department of Mysteries. You really expect me to believe that you couldn't find a way yourself?"

Dumbledore said nothing to deny it. He just looked tired as Sirius ranted. Sirius took in a quick breath, controlling himself.

"Regardless of whatever reason you had then, it doesn't apply now. Harry knows what's down there."

Dumbledore sighed, looking resigned. "H-how did he take learning about the prophecy?" He had to clear his throat, his voice thick with emotion. Sirius's own guilt made its appearance then. He closed his eyes, sighing.

"Remus told him. Just the basics - that there's a prophecy about him and Voldemort. That's all we know. The basics." Sirius said shortly before emptying his glass. "Harry was angry and upset but grateful that he'd been told."

"Ah." Was all Dumbledore said in response. He brought his hand over to where he'd left his wand on the table. At just the touch, both his glass and Sirius's refilled.

"He's been told what Voldemort believes… and what we've been led to believe. How close to the truth that is, well, only you can be the judge of that."

He knew he was being petulant but he was far from caring. He picked up his glass, now full again with the sweet, very strong drink. Dumbledore was uncharacteristically quiet and contemplative. He took a rather long sip of his own drink, making no visible wince at the strength of the alcohol. His eyes then met Sirius's.

"The record at the Ministry isn't the only copy of the prophecy. I possess the other." He tapped his temple with a finger. "I was the recipient of the original prophecy and I alone have the knowledge of the full version. What Voldemort believes came from information he received when a spy heard part of the prophecy - but not the full contents. That is why he believes the rest of the prophecy reveals the secret behind Harry's continuing survival."

Sirius frowned across the table.

"You better tell me that you let James and Lily know the full version." He growled

"I did." Dumbledore confirmed quickly.

That was some comfort. Not much but some.

"Did you ever intend to tell Harry the full version yourself or were you content to just wait until he's of whatever age you deem appropriate?" Sirius asked, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. Dumbledore signed, taking another sip of his mead.

"I intended to wait until he had achieved a good grasp of occlumency." Dumbledore's voice was hard. He gave Sirius a very firm look. "I may have overlooked much this year and allowed great injustices to befall Harry while under my care, but my decisions have never been because I doubt Harry's character and ability. Quite the opposite. I have never met a young wizard as remarkable as Harry Potter. Yet the fact remains that he has a very dangerous connection to Voldemort that poses a threat not just to himself but to those around him. Until he can keep his secrets safe from discovery, I have little choice but to keep my distance."

Sirius stared at Dumbledore, cradling his glass in his hand.

"If you were aware of just how dangerous the connection is between Harry and Voldemort, why did you wait until Christmas to have Snape teach him occlumency? Harry's scar has been giving him insights into Voldemort's mind since before he was resurrected."

"It was not until after he witnessed the attack on Arthur that I truly feared that Voldemort had a real presence in Harry's mind." Dumbledore's face then gave a grim twist. "I saw a shadow of him in Harry's eyes - just for a moment. It wasn't strong enough for me to suspect that he has consciously established a connection, but I saw him… and the hate in Harry's eyes was not his own."

Sirius faintly wished he hadn't forced the topic. Harry had in fact told him of the moment that Dumbledore referred too. He'd tried to comfort Harry but his worries never really left him. It only confirmed what he had already come to suspect was the truth behind the connection between Harry and Voldemort.

"He told me that he felt a desire to attack you in that moment. It… frightened him." Sirius said quietly. "I told him it was an aftermath of the vision, but…" He looked up at Dumbledore. "Emotions are beyond what should be possible with legilimency. It's an art of the mind, not of the heart. The connection between them isn't mental, is it? Not truly."

Dumbledore met his eyes, showing a flicker of surprise. Sirius let out a dry, mirthless laugh.

"I'm not as ignorant of the Dark Arts as most people, Albus. I know more than I should about the subject. Enough to begin to suspect that soul magic is behind this."

The look in Dumbledore's eyes turned calculating and almost sinister. Sirius tensed a little in warning.

"Have you spoken to Harry about your suspicions?"

"Not until I have proof, no." Sirius then chased his words with a gulp of mead to lend him some more dutch courage. "Minerva has reached out to your old mentor, Nicolas Flamel. Unless I'm mistaken, I think she may have come to the same conclusion as I have."

"Nicolas…" Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. "I admit, I never thought that alchemy would have an answer but his experience could indeed prove valuable. When it comes to Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, we go beyond what we believe is possible with magic. Nicolas did indeed explore what is impossible ."

Sirius sighed. He was just going to have to go right for the jugular.

"So judging from how you are avoiding admitting that I'm right, I'm just going to assume I am. Harry's scar is a horcrux."

Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he downed the rest of his mead. Setting down his glass, his face then fell.

"I hoped I would go longer without hearing that word pass from another's lips." He whispered, reaching over to his wand. He hesitated, his eyes focusing on the wand for a moment before he changed his mind, resting his hand instead on the table top. Sirius had no such reservations, grabbing the bottle instead of using a refilling charm. He poured out more mead for both of them.

"You see, there lies the problem, Albus. Keeping the truth a secret might protect Harry from this horrible knowledge but it doesn't protect him from the bit of Voldemort stuck inside him. Even if Harry manages to learn occlumency, that just shields his mind from influence. He will still be carrying a piece of Voldemort. This is… just the same as the prophecy. Instead of hiding it, you should be focusing on destroying it!"

Sirius set the bottle down with a loud thud. To his surprise, Dumbledore actually flinched. He recovered quickly, levelling a firm look across the table. He raised a finger.

"The only way to destroy it will kill Harry in the process. Is that what you want?" Dumbledore shot back at him, finally angered. "I am doing my utmost to prevent that."

"By keeping it a secret?" Sirius demanded back, still not intimidated. "I… I know what this means for Harry, Albus. But can you not see how cruel this is? This is akin to a Healer lying to a patient about a life-threatening illness! Unless you have been purposefully setting him up to be a sacrificial lamb-."

"You cannot even begin to fathom how wrong you are. I am trying to save his life!" Dumbledore snapped, raising his voice for the first time. "When the time is right, I will bring Harry into my confidence and I will trust him with knowledge that I have given no other wizard. You accuse me of being uncaring, but this is war, Sirius. I cannot afford to allow my personal feelings to get in the way of what must be done!"

The temperature in the kitchen had dropped several degrees. Enough for Sirius to truly respect the power radiating off the elder wizard. Sirius ran a hand over his face. He wasn't ready himself to fully grasp what it meant that Harry carried part of Voldemort's soul. He would have to confront it, especially if Harry was having Healers and legendary wizards investigating the enigma of his scar. The truth would come out and Harry would need Sirius more than ever to help him come to terms with it. Voldemort simply could not die while Harry lived with a horcrux in his scar.

"We will think of something. There has to be a way to separate them." Sirius said mostly to himself. "If there isn't, then we just… change our tactics. If Voldemort can't be killed because he has a horcrux-."

"Horcruxes." Dumbledore cut over him. Sirius looked over, slightly relieved that it no longer appeared that Dumbledore was trying to turn the kitchen into a refrigerator. "He has more than one."

"Well, then all the more reason to change how we fight him." Sirius said, not put off his train of thought. "We tried your way. Well, you tried your way. We just followed your orders and your lead without question." Sirius stopped himself, reining in his temper for a moment. He needed to keep a level head if he wanted their argument to go anywhere. "So he can't be killed then we find a way to trap him. It worked for Grindelwald, didn't it? You had him imprisoned in his own fortress at Nurmengard, isn't that right?."

Dumbledore brought his hands together, surveying Sirius over his fingertips. The silence continued but Sirius could tell that Dumbledore's mind was at work and he actually processed what he had to say. He then sighed, reaching once more for his mead.

"It has been a while since someone has turned my own achievements against me. As our friends across the Channel would say - touché."

Neither of them spoke for a while. Sirius's anger burned out, leaving him with a horrible hollow feeling. Dreading up painful truths had been in vain, only serving to hurt them both. He hadn't asked to speak to the old man to make himself feel, if possible, even worse. He'd planned to ask for his help. Accusing him for doing a terrible job at leading didn't really help his chances with convincing Dumbledore to help him.

"These past few days have granted me a chance for… reflection and also regret."

Sirius said nothing, doing his part to listen and not interrupt. Dumbledore closed his eyes then, sighing out past his fingers.

"Harry has only ever shown me loyalty and while I will maintain that I have only ever acted in his best interests, I confess that my efforts have caused great harm. I have acted knowing that my actions would hurt him yet I reasoned that it was for…"

Dumbledore suddenly went still, his mouth hanging open with shock. His eyes went wide as if he just made a very terrible discovery. Tears formed in earnest. He brought a hand up to his open mouth, choking back a shocked gasp before he finished his sentence.

"...the greater good."

Sirius understood the reason for Dumbledore's shock. He sighed, filling the awkward moment with busying himself with his drink.

"There is nothing more dangerous than a man convinced that he is completely and utterly in the right." Sirius then said when he put his drink down. "Do you know who told me that?" Dumbledore's tear-filled eyes went over to him, giving no answer. "Lily. She said that of Voldemort but it can account for a lot of wizards… and muggles… throughout history."

Dumbledore brought a hand over his eyes as he worked to compose himself.

"Lily was wise beyond her years."

"Harry has that in common with her." Sirius said quietly. Dumbledore reached for his glass, his hand trembling. "I spoke with him this morning. He knows Voldemort will make his move… he knows how much danger he is in and he'll still face it head on with his back straight and proud. Just like his parents. He is… every part their son. His life is a miracle and I'll do anything to keep it thriving. Whatever it takes."

He leaned forwards causing Dumbledore to lower his hand from his eyes and look at him. The regret and remorse clouding his teary eyes cleared for a moment, a steely edge entering their depths. The Gryffindor behind the schemes and secrets looked back at Sirius then.

"You wish to risk breaking into the Ministry of Magic, travelling down to the deepest level to where the security is the thickest, to access the most classified secrets that our Government possesses and destroy one of them, all the while evading notice and capture."

Sirius finally grinned, collecting his glass from the table. He was heading towards drunk and, unless he was mistaken, Dumbledore was just as bad as he was. Especially when the mood dramatically changed from them being at each other's throat to perfectly civil. Dumbledore had definitely brought with him the good stuff as his olive branch.

"I do." He confirmed. In response, Dumbledore's eyes gave a shine as he blinked to clear the tears from them. He cleared his throat and picked up his glass, copying Sirius and raising it.

"You have humbled me very effectively this evening, Sirius. Whatever plan you have, I will listen and, if you will accept it, I will lend my help."

Sirius clinked his glass against Dumbledore's.

"I would be honoured to have you as a partner in crime. As we are the most wanted wizards in the country, it's only right that we break a law or two."

Dumbledore then smiled. At that moment, the alliance was made and so the two slightly drunk, emotionally drained criminals began to plan their heist.