Rambling and Dribbles: A dribble that I hope some enjoy. All updates are now in chapter 1 of Rambling and Dribbles.

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me.

-oOo-

Working Title: A Family for Christmas

-oOo-

-oOo-

Premise

Harry and Hermione get close sixth year. A little too close… making for complications when the war makes a turn for the worse.

Notes:

1. Teen pregnancy

2. Character deaths – this will not be a bloodless war

3. Harry get better training and is determined to protect his family

4. Sirius is a bit more sane and willing to do what he needs to help

5. A little more of a darker view of the Grangers. Hermione isn't abused, but neglect is there. Sometimes some people are just not meant to be parents.

-oOo-

Chapter 1

-oOo-

December 20, 1995

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry was sitting on the ledge of the window. The castle was quiet. Almost everyone had gone home this year and he was happy they had. The vision he had a few nights ago still had him spooked. He swore he tasted blood in his mouth…

McGonagall had taken the Weasleys and he had been left behind. Not that he should be surprised. Harry was used to being ignored, left behind or abandoned. Even in his self-loathing, he cared about the few that cared for him. It worried him that he hadn't heard anything from Ron since then.

Leaning his head against the cool stone, he tried not to let the loneliness of his life crush him.

For the fist time, he was supposed to have spent a Christmas with someone that really wanted him. Sirius had asked him to come to Grimmauld Place for the holidays, but those plans had been scuppered with no warning the night he had had his nighttime fit about a snake in the ministry. He couldn't help but feel something really bad had occurred, but he had been shaken awake before he knew what happened when it found that man… an all too familiar man.

He shivered in the cold air of the castle. Outside it was snowing and the fire had almost gone out. Typically, students would throw more logs on the fire, but with him being the only one here this year, he hadn't wanted to get up and the house elves tried not to show themselves.

Watching the snow pile up on the other side of the window, he was spooked when the portrait opened. He had put his wand on the sill within easy grabbing distance. It was a sign of how spooked he was from that dream.

Grabbing his wand, he whipped it around, afraid that someone that shouldn't be here had gotten into the common room. A particularly nasty pink toad was the one he feared most.

When a familiar head of curly hair with a slight frizz came into view, he stared at her dumbfounded. "Hermione?" She met his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Over her shoulder was the bag that she had taken when she left for the train station earlier. She gave him a tremulous smile. He could tell she was hiding something but spoke in a relatively chipper tone. "My parents sent an owl late saying they wouldn't be home, having to go to a conference just after Christmas. Professor McGonagall picked me up from London to take me back."

Harry gave her a sympathetic look as he dropped his wand. She never said it, but Harry had a feeling that her home life wasn't that great either, but at least her took her on a vacation every year, paid for her schooling and Hermione talked fondly about them, even if it wasn't always enthusiastically or all that often.

For the only person he ever would do this for, he held out his arms and she came over to hug him. Her bag dropped to the floor just before her arms wrapped around him. This past year had stressed their friendships. She was the only one he still felt close too.

Her hugs were tight. Today it was tighter than normal. It was like she didn't want to let him go. Maybe she was afraid he would disappear? He didn't pull away until she was ready too, taking as much comfort from her warmth as she seemed to be taking from him. When she shifted, Hermione buried her face on his shoulder. Harry just kept holding to her. She didn't cry, but he knew she was hurting. It was some time later when she finally let him go.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Fine," she replied into his chest.

"Fine. Be that way," he teased back, though there was a sad tension in it.

"I will be," she replied.

"Dinner should be soon. Do you want to head down to the great hall or the kitchens?" he offered her.

Pulling back, she wiped at her eyes. He looked away to not embarrass her. After hefting her bag onto her shoulder again, she told him, "I want to put this away first. Do you think the house elves will mind if we go to the kitchens? We can pay them."

"You know that they won't, and they won't take anything from us. Though maybe we can finally convince Dobby to work for one of us?" Harry suggested.

She shook her head. "Once he accepts a five-day work week, two weeks of vacation and an honest wage, I'll accept his proposal," she told him.

He chuckled. This was going to be an interesting dinner, like always. When Dobby and her got into it, neither of them wanted to give an inch, and most of the other house elves either looked uncomfortable or kept bringing them new dishes to distract them.

When she came back down, his eyes wandered up and down her before he realized what he was doing. She had changed out of her jeans into a long blue skirt and white knit jumper that was rather flattering. He had never seen her wear something like that before. Catching himself before she noticed, he held out his invisibility cloak. She quirked an eye at him. "I don't want to see the Umbitch."

She frowned but didn't say anything about his language. "Professor McGonagall said she is out of the castle."

"I still don't want to take any chances."

He didn't miss her eyes on his hand before moving down the stairs to his side. Harry wrapped an around her waist as she wrapped both hers around his. As they were getting bigger, they had to move under the cloak close like this. Harry didn't mind having her this close. His body even less so to feel her chest pressing into his side, or for his arm to be wrapped around her thin waist.

He swore she took in a deep breath while her head was buried into his chest before straightening up. His chin touched the top of her head. Had she always been this petit compared to him?

He wrapped the cloak around them. Neither of them realized how softly synchronized they moved.

-oOo-

Christmas Eve, 1995

Hogwarts, Scotland

Hermione sat on the couch next to him, her head on his shoulder. He blew the strand of hair out his mouth that had migrated there. She reached up to pat her hair down. "Sorry about that."

"It's no problem," he told her, leaning his head onto the top of hers. Given the year they had had already, he was happy she was here. He didn't want to be alone. He had been alone too much in his life, and not being able to see Sirius was making it worse this year. He wanted to see Sirius, but Dumbledore said it was too dangerous for him to leave the school. Harry felt it too dangerous to stay in the school, or anywhere the ministry or Voldemort could get him. At least Umbitch was out of the school and may be for the Hols.

Personally, he hoped she would never come back.

Hermione leaned more into him.

They enjoyed the warmth of each other and the fire until the portrait opened. Harry scrambled for his wand. He palmed it as McGonagall walked into the common room. Seeing her, Hermione sat up. McGonagall gave them a rather sad, nostalgic look. There was something in it that had Harry immediately on guard.

"Good evening, professor," Hermione said, sitting up straight.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. Potter. I'm glad to find you together," she told them.

"Having a good Christmas Eve, professor?" Harry asked.

Her lips pursed. There was a forced friendliness that quickly dropped. "It could be better. I'm sorry to say, but I have some unwelcome news."

Harry felt his gut clench. Hermione tensed and a hand went to her mouth. "Not my parents?" she whispered.

"I do not have any word of your parents, but I can enquire. No, I am sorry to tell you, but Arthur Weasley has passed away," she told them. There was a glassy look to her eyes as though she was holding back tears.

Hermione gasped.

Harry's hand tightened painfully around his wand.

"I'm sorry to tell you this," she said.

"How… whe… how," Harry got out.

McGonagall had a pained look. "He was hurt while doing something for the Order."

"What about Ron and the others?" Hermione asked.

"They are at headquarters," the professor replied.

"Can we go?" Harry asked, desperate to see Ron and Sirius.

She looked pained. "I'm sorry, but Professor Dumbledore thinks its too dangerous to move you or have you in the open. You two will have to stay here for the duration of the Holidays."

Hermione turned to him. Her eyes were full of tears. Harry jumped when she grabbed his jumper then buried her face into his chest. He was stiff as a board. All the times death had come to him, no one had ever tried to comfort him before. Having a distraught Hermione clinging to him left Harry not knowing what to do.

He looked up to Professor McGonagall. She gave him an understanding look that Harry didn't understand. "I'm sorry to give you this news on Christmas Eve. If you need me, my door will be open."

Harry gave her a desperate look. McGongall must have understood. "Just hold her until she is done," the old Scots woman whispered.

Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione. She started to cry harder.

McGongall gave him a sad nod before walking out the portrait hole.

Harry held Hermione as she cried. He felt a few tears leak out of his eyes. It surprised him at first. He hadn't cried in a long time. Not even after Cedric died last year. Having his best mate falling apart in his arms had him burying his head into her bushy hair. His silent tears joined hers.

After a while, she stopped, her hands still clutching his jumper tight. Harry sniffed, his nose runny. As he let his emotions out, his scar prickled. Instead of the headache and pain he often got, it felt odd. He didn't know why, it just did.

"Harry?"

He found his throat to be soar. "Yeah?"

"Do you like Cho?"

Harry couldn't understand what that had to do with what just happened. He felt this was a very important question though. Important enough that he took a moment to ponder it. He thought he had liked her, but that kiss she had given him at the last DA meeting had been wet, gross and really did nothing for him.

Hermione shifted so that the side of her face was against his jumper. He moved his arms so one was around her shoulders and the other around her back with his hand resting on her slim waist. There was something about it that sent a pleasant thrill through him. It was a feeling he had been trying to fight for months now. Ron had expressed an interest in Hermione and Harry wouldn't interfere with his other mate. Though, he wasn't really invested in Ron anymore. He had abandoned him too many times, and hadn't felt that close this year.

Hermione patiently waited for him to answer.

Eventually he said, "I thought I fancied her."

Hermione moved her arms to wrap around his waist. He had to shift to let her arm between him and the couch. His hand slipped a little to have his fingers on her stomach.

"But you don't now?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. His body was betraying him by reaction to haver he chest pressed against his. "Not really."

"Why?" she questioned.

Harry really liked how his arms wrapped around his back. He tightened his hold on her waist, feeling the curve of her body through her jumper. There was something about this he didn't want to lose. He knew he would though. Harry lost everyone.

"She kissed me," he confessed, not having told her or Ron yet.

Hermione didn't say anything for a long moment. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard over his thudding heart.

"You didn't like it, did you?"

He didn't want to let her go. Life felt so fragile and short at the moment. It was a profound reality that didn't strike most fifteen- or sixteen-year-olds. "It was wet," he said with dislike.

"Isn't it supposed to be wet?"

Harry sighed. "She was crying."

"Oh," Hermione replied.

They sat there for a few more before she moved to pull away. He knew this was the end of having her so close to him. Reluctantly he moved his arms, looking away.

She didn't move far , her arms movie to rest her hands on his side, which was even more bothersome. "Would you like a kiss without tears?"

Harry wasn't sure he had heard her right. Turning to her, he could see the tear streaks on her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy. The chocolate brown orbs still emotional. Her hair was frizzier than it had been earlier. Even for all that, he felt something in his chest stir.

When had he found her beautiful, even like this?

"What?"

She bit her lip for a moment before repeating, "Would you like a kiss without tears?"

Harry licked his lips and her eyes moved to follow the action. Something in it excited him in a way he wasn't sure about. "Do you mean would I like to kiss you?"

Her eyes moved up to his. He could see someone that was just as vulnerable and alone as him. She inched her face closer to him. "I don't want to die without knowing."

Harry was a little confused. "Without knowing what?"

She continued to move closer. He subconsciously knelt his head down. Her arms pulled him towards her. "If someone really wants me," she said in a hushed whisper.

It was the same fear that had been in his heart since he could understand what wishes were. In that instance, he felt connected. Truly connected to someone for the first time. She understood loneliness. She understood rejection. It may not be the same as him, but she felt it as deeply. Her chocolate brown orbs needed someone. All the feelings he had been trying to bury since the Yule Ball last year finally won out.

He leaned in.

Hermione closed her eyes.

Their lips touched.

Harry would never say that it was like fireworks going off, or that hormones took over like they had seen with many of their peers, but there was something magical about it. Her lips were soft, wet and send a thrill through him that Cho never awoke.

It was a sweet kiss. Their lips lingered on each other's before tentatively moving. An emotion he had never felt before passed between them as they tentatively explored this new sensation and the taste that lingered on their lips. When he pulled back, Hermione's lips had gently curled up at the edges. It was such a better sight than seeing her cry. When her eyes opened, Harry had a surge of heat spread throughout in his chest.

"That was nice."

He gave her a crooked grin. "It was."

"I think we can do better though," she said.

His grin grew a little wider. He probably shouldn't feel any happiness right now, but Hermione had always made him feel better. "Really?"

In response, she moved to meet his lips again. They pecked a few times before he started to feel the heat grow. His arms wrapped around her. She pressed her chest against his. The next time their lips met, there was more need to it. Her mouth moved against his.

Harry found he wanted more.

He needed more.

Something primal had his tongue dart out to wet his lips while they were kissing. She let out a soft groan that excited him beyond anything he had felt before. His hands went to her waist, pulling her tight against him. Her tongue darted out. The groan that came out surprised him when he realized it was his.

It didn't take long for their kiss to become heated, sloppy and breath taking. When she finally pulled back, her chocolate eyes were intense orbs of emotion. She was breathing heavily, making her chest press against her jumper in a way that his eyes liked.

After a few, Harry stupidly asked, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"God, I hope so," she said softly.

When their lips met again, it wasn't long before hands started to roam…

-oOo-

Christmas, 1995

Hogwarts, Scotland

It was a cool morning with the grey light of dawn filtering into the room. Harry groaned, realizing he had forgotten to close the night curtains. Shifting, he didn't really register the warm body in his left arm and clinging to his side.

His right arm crossed over his eyes to block the light.

He fell back to sleep.

When he woke again, the same grey light was still filtering into the room. It took him a moment to realize what had woken him. Something was tickling his chest. He lazily swiped at it. "Stop it, Hedwig," he said.

Someone gave a little laugh. "Are you telling me you prefer your owl to me?"

His eyes shot open.

It took a couple of seconds for him to realize that his arm was wrapped around a bare back, his hand was pressing into the flesh around the waist he had been fantasizing about and a mane of bushy hair was ticking at his nose as a finger traced patterns over his chest.

"Hermione?"

"I always saw people on movies doing this, and I never understood why, but always wanted too," she said, circling her finger around his nipple, before making other patterns.

He just about choked on the sensation.

Last night came crashing back to him.

"Please, just a few more minutes," she said, a certain pleading to her voice when he stiffened.

He swallowed. "You… you don't want to run?"

There was a long few minutes of silence while she kept making patterns. "I don't have anywhere to run too," she eventually told him. Had she been as lonely as him?

The arm wrapped around her squeezed her. "Does this mean you are my girlfriend?"

"I was hoping."

He kissed the top of her head. "I wanted to ask you on a date for a while."

"Why didn't you?" she asked, moving so that her eyes were looking up at him and her hand was across his chest. He felt his heart hammering below it.

"Ron. I didn't think you liked me," he told her.

Hermione huffed. "I don't like Ron."

His arm squeezed her again. "We can't let anyone know about this," he said.

Hermione frowned, before nodding, her chin digging into his side. "No, we can't. Umbridge and the ministry would use this against us."

"I want to be your boyfriend though," Harry told her.

She gave a joyful smile. "I want to be your girlfriend." Her smile faltered. "We just need to keep it secret."

Her hand moved to his shoulder. He tried to shy away from her gentle fingertips as they tickled across his skin. "Stop that."

He had never seen her take on a mischievous light to her eyes before. She continued to just trace the very tips of her fingers across his skin. "Stop what?"

He tried to squirm away, which was not possible with how she was half on him. "Hermione!" he let out a small laugh.

"I still don't what to stop," she said.

"Hermione!" After letting out another laugh, he growled at her, then started to tickle her side where his hand was. She laughed and tried to get away this time. "HARRY!"

"It's only fair," he shot back.

They wound up getting into a tickling fight that had them squirming about, rolling and eventually Harry wound up on top. They were both breathing hard. Hermione had a smile on her face, the turned more sultry. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek. "You won't leave me?"

"Never," he told her, unsure if he would be able to keep that promise or not. Leaning down, he kissed her. Hermione rubbed his cheek as they shared first a soft kiss, then a more passionate one, then they both seemed to realize he was between her legs…

When they finally realized that there was a pile of gifts at the end of the bed, they got up. Harry had a hard time to take his eyes off her until she go her shirt on, though they couldn't immediately find her bra.

"I should go get mine. We can open in them in the common room," she told him.

He moved to the end of the bed, needing to move them to get his clothes. "I want to take a shower," her told her. The other events of yesterday were starting to hit him. He felt he needed a little time to process it.

"Alright," she said. "Oh, this floor is cold!"

She had stood up to get her skirt on.

"You can stay here," he offered, afraid that once they left this room, then things would change.

Seeming to get his fear, she said, "You are my boyfriend. We'll find a way."

He gave her small smile. Not wanting to put his feet onto the cold floor, he started to move the packages before he stopped. Looking at a tag on a brightly coloured Christmas print, he saw 'To: Hermione, From: Mum and Dad.'

"Ah, Hermione?" he said as she sat on the side of the bed to get her shoes on.

"Yes, Harry?"

He looked at a few more. "Ah, your presents are already here."

She blinked, then her face paled. She shot a look towards the still closed door. "You don't think…?"

Harry came across a gift from Dobby. Letting out a breath, Harry shook his head. "I think this was Dobby," he told her.

She let out a small breath. Hermione may still want to see the house elves treated better, but she now understood they needed the magic from an active magical source to stabilize their own magic, like a witch or place like Hogwarts. "We will have to go to the kitchens to wish him a Happy Christmas."

"I'm hungry."

"I am too."

Harry handed her a present. "Now or after breakfast?"

"Now," she told him.

Harry had a much smaller haul than years past. Hermione had gotten him a new wand polishing kit and a wand holster. "Fred and George," she told him to his questioning look since they were not allowed to go into Hogsmeade because of Umbitch.

When she looked to him when she unwrapped a book on advanced transfiguration, she looked to him. "Where did you get this? I was looking for it all last year."

He shrugged. "Fred and George," he told her back. The twins had the corner on the black market in the school. Harry knew how, since he had given them the map to use often enough this year, but as Umbitch had clamped down more, their deviousness really shone.

When done, he had the two presents from Hermione, one from Sirius, one from Neville and the last from Dobby. As he realized he didn't have one from any of the Weasley's, his concern from them took the fore. Hermione looked at bothered. They didn't need to say it. When Hermione went to get changed and take a shower herself, Harry finally dug into his trunk.

Looking for nicer clothes, he shuffled through his trunk. He was tired of wearing Dudley's castoffs or his school uniforms, but didn't have much of a choice otherwise. Pulling a thick Gryffindor jumper that he had bought for himself with the little money he had on him, a brown package fell onto the floor.

He frowned to look at it. Sirius had told him to open it when no one else was around and they he could contact him. He had never turned to adults as they had never really done anything for him, but for once, he felt like he needed someone. Without Hermione here, he felt the crushing guilt over whatever had happened a week ago, the fact Mr Weasley was dead and that he should be so selfish to want Hermione. Last night and this morning had been brilliant, but when did he ever deserve to have happiness in his life. Especially when others were hurting as much as the Weasley's probably were.

Unwrapping the package, he found a mirror that didn't show his reflection and a note.

-o-

Harry,

When Prongs, Moony and I were in school we were able to find a way to make magical mirrors that could insult you…

-o-

Harry rolled his eyes. That sounded like the Mauraders.

-o-

Like the map, though, there is a secret. You know the password. Then just call out my name is you ever need to talk.

Sirius

-o-

Looking at the mirror, he held it up to his face. "Your hair looks like you stuck in in an electricity sprocket," it said in a voice Harry didn't recognize.

He was so stunned, he didn't know what to say at first. His lip curled up in an uncertain curiosity. "Ah…"

"I see you are intelligent. I grade you as a flobberworm," a young voice that could only be Sirius snarked at him.

Harry let out a little laugh. "You aren't that bright either."

"Comebacks are not your forte either," the young voice of Remus told him.

A dawning understanding was coming over him. "Well your mother was a mirror in an old men locker room."

"You are not well to want to see something like that. Mental, I say," the first voice came to him. Harry felt a huge frog in his throat. That had to be his dad's voice. He stared at the mirror with his mouth open.

"Oh, look, now's he's been upgraded to troll. I hope he doesn't drool as well," the mirror told him as young Sirius.

"Bloody fuck," Harry muttered. He had never heard his father's voice before. His eyes started to burn.

"No thank you. I'm partial to girls. Speaking of which, can you put us in their bathroom?" young Remus requested.

"That would be good, but we are supposed to be insulting the bloke," his father said.

"But naked girls… imagine them bouncing up and down being so angry at us?" young Sirius sounded dreamy.

Harry chuckled. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said, not sure where that was going to go. "Padfoot."

He waited expectantly, hoping this just wasn't a prank. His heart pounded while he didn't breath… hoping…

When he waited more than a minute, his excitement started to wane. He was about to put the mirror down when a face suddenly came onto it. "Harry! Harry! Is that you?"

"Sirius!" he exclaimed, seeing the old man.

"Bloody hell, pup! I've been trying to get you on this for days," he told Harry, sounding worried. "Why haven't you used it until now?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times.

Sirius looked worried, then his intense gaze softened. "I assume you heard then?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. McGonagall told us."

Sirius brow rose. "Us? I thought you were alone."

Harry pursed his lips. "Hermione had to come back. Sirius, why won't Dumbledore let me come to see you?" He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

Sirius looked a little surprised. "I was told you wanted to stay."

Harry's face hardened. "Dumbledore said it was too dangerous for me to leave. Sirius, how are the Weasleys? I wanted to be there this year."

Sirius took on a grave look. "I see. The Weasley's aren't here. I don't know how they are. The Order hasn't been here for a few weeks, but Dumbledore drops in every few days. Moony is the only other one that visits."

"But, I thought the Order was using your house as a safe place."

"They were. I don't know what is going on. You really didn't ask to stay?" Sirius questioned.

"Merlin, no! I don't want to be here. I don't want to be at Hogwarts," Harry told him.

Sirius looked a little shocked. "You don't just mean for the hols, do you?"

Harry wasn't sure. He was still feeling defiant of Umbitch, but something had changed last night that had him wanting away. "I don't know," he said. "I just don't want to be here."

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry swallowed. Did he tell Sirius? The whole reason he hadn't opened this package before was because he didn't want to give Sirius a reason to go out. He was the only other person he felt cared for him besides Hermione…

He found his head shaking as tried to work his way through all the emotions he was feeling. He had always been taught to bury them, usually until he exploded or his magic burst out.

"Pup, what's wrong?" Sirius asked. After a moment, he suggested, "Is it Mister Weasley?"

Harry shook his head more. That was part of it, but Harry was feeling it was more the breaking point. After a moment, he asked, "Has anyone told you about Umbitch?"

Sirius grinned for a second. "You like her that much, huh?"

Harry's furious face had Sirius sober. "She's a total bint, Sirius. Fudge and her keep putting in these education decrees. We can't go into Hogsmeade. I've been banned from quidditch. She took my Firebolt! She won't teach us anything. She keeps calling me a liar!" he was getting more worked up. "The slag won't let us check out any defence books from the library. I've had to serve weeks of detention because I can't keep my mouth shut like McGonagall and Hermione tell me too, but she is torturing us! She did this, Sirius!"

For the life of him, he would never know what possessed him to hold up his hand to show Sirius the white scars on the back of his hand.

As he had been ranting, Sirius grew concerned, then angry. When he mouthed the words etch into Harry's hand, the man's grey eyes grew stormy. When he spoke next, it was in a calm tone that Harry had never heard before. "Harry, how did you get those scars?"

He spat out, "Blood quill. Hermione finally found what it was…"

Sirius dropped his mirror so that Harry was looking at the ceiling of the kitchen. He started yell. "I'll kill the bloody slag! A fecking blood quill! Dumbledore said everything is fine! He said Harry was doing fine! KREACHER!"

"Sirius!" Harry yelled trying to get the old man's attention.

He heard the crack. "Blood traitor master calls Kreacture?"

"SHUT IT YOU MANGY FLESH BAG! Lock this place down. I don't want anyone getting in! If they try, I don't care if you burn them to a crisp! If its Dumbledore, fry his arse!"

"Sirius!" Harry yelled as loud as he could.

When the man came back on the mirror, he looked half crazed. "Harry, you are to stay as far away from this Umbridge. I don't care if you need to get sick every class you have with her. A bloody fecking blood quill! How many times!" Sirius demanded.

Harry looked a little dubiously at the mirror. He had never seen Sirius like this.

"Merlin and Morgana, Harry! How many times?"

"I… I don't know. A few weeks," Harry told him.

Harry's already furious face darkened. "What do you mean a few weeks?"

Harry swallowed. "Five or six nights a week, a few hours each time."

The look that crosse the man's face had Harry scared. After a moment, he took in a long breath, then let it out. "Listen, Harry. You need to stay away from her. There are things going on that are very dangerous for you. The ministry has increased its campaign against you and Dumbledore. The paper is publishing many nasty comments about you. If you can get your Firebolt back, do it. If you need to run, I will find a way to get to you."

"But Sirius, you can't leave Grimmauld Place. The ministry and the dementors are still looking for you," Harry shot back. "What about the warnings from the Order?"

"The ministry and the Order can both burn for all I care. The damage the blood quill can do is not good. Why didn't Madam Pomfrey heal it and why didn't McGonagall stop it!"

Harry new his own anger shone this time. "Umbitch said if I went to the infirmary she would start using it on my friends and that the ministry would take me in for accusing a ministry worker of an unfounded crime. She said I would go to Azkaban. And as for McGonagall, she's only told me to keep my head down."

Sirius shook with anger. After a moment, he said, "Right." The man's looked to be thinking. "Is Hermione alright?"

"Yeah."

"Why is she at the school? I thought she was going home? Dumbledore said so," Sirius told him, though he heard the anger at the headmaster's name.

"Her parents had to go a trip. McGonagall took her back. I haven't seen Dumbledore since the last day of school. Umbitch has been out of the castle as well," Harry told him. He wanted to mention to Sirius about Hermione being his girlfriend now, but felt this had to kept between them. Especially after what they had done.

"You need to stay close to her. Anti-muggle sentiments are growing again. I find that odd though that she was taken back to the castle like that. Are you sure that her parents said they didn't want to see here?" Sirius asked.

Harry shifted a little. "Hermione said McGonagall got a note that came late."

Sirius closed his eyes. "Has she heard from them since then?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but she only heard from them maybe once a semester. I… I don't know if…" he wasn't sure how to say what he had been suspecting for a while.

Sirius's rage turned more into an accepting understanding. "It's because she's a witch, isn't it?"

"I… I don't know."

"I will find a way to see if they are alright. Your mum had much the same issue when she went to school," Sirius told him.

Harry blinked. "But, Aunt Petunia always said their parents idolized their 'perfect Lily'."

Sirius gave him and odd look before getting upset again. After a moment, he said, "Harry, I don't know what your relatives have told you, but Lily never went back home after third year. She had a falling out with her parents and wound up living with one of her roommates after Wizarding Child Services got involved."

"Oh," Harry said, unsure what to think about that. Aunt Petunia hated her sister and always acted as though having a witch in the family was all they talked about since getting his Hogwarts letter.

Sirius frowned. "I think we need to talk."

Harry looked at the man. "Why didn't you tell me all this last summer? I was there for weeks."

Sirius went to say something, closed his mouth, then went to say something again, before looking upset. "I don't know."

The bell of the clock tower could be heard from outside striking nine.

"Uhm, I'm supposed to be meeting Hermione. Should I tell her about the mirror?" he asked.

"I think the three of us should talk later. I need to do some stuff," Sirius told him.

"Sirius, don't do anything stupid," Harry told him.

The man seemed to get it. "I know how to get around. Staying in this house is sending me around the twist anyways."

"Sirius!"

"Happy Christmas. We'll talk later," the man said in a forced cheerful tone before the mirror went blank again.

"SIRIUS! PADFOOT! Bloody hell!" Harry screamed at the mirror. He couldn't take it to lose Sirius too.