Harry and Ron went into the kitchen, finding Ginny and Hermione already downstairs, digging into thick bowls of oatmeal with blueberries and cinnamon.

"There's still more on the stove," Ginny said, gesturing. "Mum just made it."

Ron walked over to the large pot and started spooning some out for himself. Harry stood behind him, smelling the heavy breakfast and feeling unwell all over again.

"Did you guys sleep ok?" Hermione asked. Ron grunted.

"Pleasant," she said with a grimace.

"I can't have conversations this early in the morning," Ron said. "I haven't even had anything to eat yet."

"You could still be polite," Hermione began.

"Please don't start guys, we just got up," Ginny interrupted. Hermione shot her a look, but returned to her oatmeal.

Harry took a seat next to Ron, across the table from Hermione and Ginny. He began fiddling with his spoon, mixing the slop of mushy food around, trying to bring himself to take a bite. When he did, it felt like it was gluing his mouth shut.

"Is everything ok, Harry?" Hermione asked, noticing his discomfort.

"Didn't sleep well," he muttered, pouring himself a cup of tea from the teapot on the table.

"Did mum already say what we'd be working on today?" Ron asked. Harry was grateful the conversation had shifted so quickly away from him.

"No, though I think we'll be cleaning out the drawing room," Ginny said. "She was mentioning yesterday how it could get used as another guest room, right now it's just full of junk."

Harry zoned out as the others kept talking. His eyes burned from the lack of sleep, and the tea was making him feel nauseous. It had only been his first night back around everyone again, and it felt impossible to imagine dealing with a whole school year of this. And then there was schoolwork – work he hadn't even started over the summer like he was supposed to because he hadn't had access to his things. Should he even bother starting it?

Suddenly, there was tapping on the window. They all looked up at the tiny back window just above the sink and saw an owl, clutching several letters with bright red wax seals.

"School letters!" Hermione said, jumping up and standing on her toes to flick open the latch. The bird was too big to come in, so simply dropped the mail down onto the counter, before flapping away again. Hermione picked up the envelopes and distributed them to each of them.

"I've been wondering…" Hermione said with bated breath as she tore open her letter and unfolded it. She squealed. "YES!"

Harry looked up and felt his heart drop. A shiny gold badge with the Gryffindor lion and largePemblazoned across it. Prefect.

"Congrats Hermione," Ginny said, also unfolding her letter. She sounded a bit indifferent, but Hermione didn't seem to notice.

"I hadreallybeen hoping for it, I wasn't sure with how end of year exams went last spring, so I thought maybe I hadn't qualified, Harry did you – " She stopped mid-sentence, seeing Ron sitting absolutely flabbergasted, a badge on the table in front of him as well.

"Er, no," Harry said clearing his throat. "I think Ron's got one, though."

"Congratulations, Ron!" Hermione cried, getting up and running around the table to give him a hug. "This is such great news, wow!"

"Wow is right," Ginny said with raised eyebrows. "Wait until Fred and George find out."

Ron's face blanched.

"Oh god," he said. "I'm going to become as bad as Percy."

"Don't say that," Hermione said, lightly hitting his arm. "There's nothing wrong with being a Prefect."

Ron stole a glance at Harry, who did his best to give a sincere smile.

"Really happy for you," he said, swallowing hard. "Good, er, good work."

"Thanks," Ron said awkwardly, looking back down on the paper to check that the letter was actually addressed to him.

"Your mum is going to besoproud!" Hermione beamed. "Someone should go get her!"

"I'll go," Harry said promptly, standing up before anyone could say anything. He marched out of the room, and up the stairs, the all too familiar tension taking over again. The thick sick feeling was back in his throat. His face burned.

Of course this had happened. The world was out to make him feel as excluded as possible. Of course they would go from a trio to a duo. Harry stomped heavily up the next flight of stairs, feeling the pain of the abandonment already hitting him. Prefect meetings, where he wasn't welcome. Empty common rooms, just Harry, alone, because the two of them are both out helping with enforcing curfew. His stomach twisted with the grief of not being a part of the dynamic in the same way anymore. How fast would the changes come? Did they already feel better than him? Why hadn't Harry been good enough to get a badge? Why was he never enough?

"HE'S NOTJAMES,SIRIUS!"

Harry froze. Mrs. Weasley was yelling so loudly, her voice had carried down the hall, around the corner and to where Harry was on the stairs. The raised voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his senses heightening.

"I NEVER SAID HE WAS!" Sirius roared back. Harry felt the urge to retreat, slink back down the stairs, to find a safe corner. But something pushed him forward.

"You treat him like he's a friend of yours!" Mrs. Weasley said in exasperation. "He's not your friend, you're an adult, who is supposed to be looking out for him, and you need to act like it!"

"So, I'm a shit godfather?" Sirius said back. Harry flinched – he had never heard Sirius swear before.

"I never said that," Mrs. Weasley said back. "But you are letting him get away with too much – "

"How is respecting his privacy 'too much'?"

"He's not an adult, he's a child, and he needs someone looking out for him. And sometimes that means not respecting privacy when something is wrong."

"I don't see how being ill one night is evidence for something being so wrong that I can't – "

"It's not just that and you know that!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Arabella warned us that she had stopped seeing him so much this summer, and then he arrives on the doorstep lookingsothin – "

"He'sfine," Sirius said sharply. "He'salwaysbeen thin, so was James – "

"If James came back from summer holiday looking like Harry does, would you ignore it?"

"I'm not ignoring it! I stayed up with him last night, didn't I?"

"You said you went to bed before he did."

"He said he didn't need me to stay up! Bloody hell, Molly, he's fifteen years old, he can tell me whether or not he needs something!"

"I'm not sure he can!" She said. "Being a teenager means he's probably evenlesslikely to say that he needs something, not more, I've raised plenty of them to know that."

"Harry's not your son!"

"He's as good as – who else has he got?"

"ME!" Sirius shouted, his voice was gruff and startling. Harry couldn't handle it anymore. He turned away.

"HE'S GOT ME, MOLLY."

Harry could still hear the arguing, he pressed his hands over his ears as he stepped quickly down the stairs. He couldn't believe he had caused more anger, more friction – he hadn't even been at Grimmauld Place for 24 hours and people were furious. It didn't take much more than Harry being present for everything to fall apart.

Harry went into the downstairs bathroom, the same one he had been in the middle of the night. He locked the door, leaning against it, pulling his hair. The sharp feeling brought him a new sensation to pay attention to. He yanked and yanked, twisting his fist in his thick hair.

'Why do I ruin everything?'the thought echoed around his head.

'Freak. Freak. Freak.'

Harry swallowed hard, pushing everything down, taking deep breaths. He couldn't do this again. Not so close to last night. Twice in less than 12 hours? Mrs. Weasley would notice. Everyone would notice. He needed to get in control. He needed to fucking get over it.

Harry went to the sink, turned on the tap, and started splashing water on his face. He gripped the edge of the counter, staring at his reflection. He needed to become more composed. He needed to get his shit together, and stop being such a baby over some raised voices. He had to prove he wasfine.

Harry grabbed the hand towel by the sink and rubbed his face furiously, the coarse material feeling almost like sandpaper against his skin. He stopped quickly, not wanting to make his face red.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Harry stood in the hall and waited until he finally heard footsteps on the stairs. He intercepted Mrs. Weasley in the hall and told her the fantastic news.

The week at Grimmauld Place before the academic year started went by both as fast as a sudden rainstorm, and as slow as melting snow. Mrs. Weasley had been thrilled for Ron and Hermione, hugging them both with tears of joy coming down her face. Ron's ears had turned bright red, but he had also been grinning. Harry knew he was happy to be a prefect – he had been there when Ron had looked into the Mirror of Erised back in first year.

Harry was grateful when Fred and George had come downstairs and heard the news; they immediately started picking on him. Harry couldn't help but internally feel smug about Ron being the one who was being othered.

When Sirius had come downstairs too, he had patted Harry on the back, and sat with him at the opposite end of the table from the rest.

"Good thing you didn't get a badge, eh?" Sirius had said slyly. "Wouldn't have been following in the Marauder's footsteps with that thing."

Sirius didn't mention last night at all to Harry, not even asking if he was feeling any better. Harry supposed he was trying to make a point to Mrs. Weasley – ('He can tell me whether or not he needs something!') – and instead talked about Harry's list of school supplies for the year, the only piece of news they had to discuss.

That afternoon, while Mrs. Weasley went to Diagon Alley, the rest of them split up to do chores around Grimmauld Place. Harry and Sirius ended up alone together at one point while the others were taking bags of rubbish downstairs to set by the door for the bin.

"This could be your room, you know," Sirius had said, looking around.

"It feels too big," Harry had responded. "I wouldn't have anything to put in here."

"We'll get you new stuff!" Sirius had said, clapping him on the back. "We don't want any of that Muggle junk from the Dursleys, anyways."

Harry didn't have the heart to point out he didn'thaveanything to bring over from the Dursleys that he didn't already have with him.

Once Sirius had left him alone, Harry had snuck into the upstairs bathroom near Sirius's bedroom. He had searched the cabinets, looking for something that resembled a dreamless sleep potion, but he had no such luck. The cabinet was all but empty – just some spider webs, and some unlabeled, half-used bottles that smelled rancid. Harry had sighed, realizing one of his aims for the morning had to be crossed off the list as not feasible. Maybe once he was at Hogwarts, he would be able to get some somehow.

That evening, Harry had found Hedwig, given her his letter to Hedwig, and sent her off to Mrs. Fig, before getting into bed. Harry had just as much trouble sleeping that second night as the first. This time it was because he was afraid to go to sleep in the first place. Ron had been snoring loudly next to him, just as he always did, but Harry found it far more grating than usual. How could he be so comfortable as to be able to justfall asleep? Didn't he realize Voldemort was out there? That there were probably people dying, at this second?

People who had died?

People who should have died?

Harry had waited as long as he could before getting out of bed. He had tiptoed again out the door, this time heading to the upstairs bathroom. It hadn't taken more than a few moments for a knock to sound on the door. Mrs. Weasley was up, and aware that he was up too.

"Do you need anything, Harry?" She had asked in concern.

"Just using the loo," Harry had said, coming out of the small bathroom, trying to get past her as quickly as possible. "Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley."

"Goodnight, you know which room I'm in if you need anything right?"

"Yeah, I do," Harry said awkwardly.

"Ok, get some rest, dear."

The rest of the week, Harry had remained each night in the room, catching the lightest amounts of sleep, avoiding his dreams as much as possible. He couldn't wait to get on the train and find himself back at Hogwarts, where if he couldn't sleep, he could always find an empty common room.

Harry spent the week waiting for a response from Ava as he worked with the others, clearing out cabinets, scrubbing floors of mold and grime, and pretending that nothing was different from any other year. At meals, Harry made a great deal of effort to make a point of taking large bites in front of Mrs. Weasley, even though it made his already uneasy stomach feel further unsettled. He didn't want to cause anymore arguments. It wouldn't be long until he was out of their way, and then hopefully everyone would be happier.

When Hedwig had finally brought a letter back, he had taken it from her almost desperately.

'Harry –

It is so good to hear from you! We have been so worried about you. I told mum and dad about your letter, and they're also so happy to hear you're not at the Dursley's anymore. How's London? Where is school for you actually? Do you come home for weekends usually? Is there any chance we can see you? We can collect you from the train station if it helps, mum is happy to pick you up she said.

Dad is doing ok. His treatment has been getting a bit more intense. Apparently, as they give him more medicine, it makes him sicker – how messed up is that? Has to do with how much of it is in his system, and the fact that the stupid stuff attacks everything, not just his cancer. It's really scary, Harry. I hate seeing him like this. I'm so scared that one day he's just not going to be here anymore. I have no idea what mum and I will do without him.

Sorry to write this all to you, I'm just feeling really lost. I'm not going to lie, it's hard without having you around. It helped make things feel a bit more… normal. Dad got out of bed more.

Please write back soon. We all miss you a lot.

- Ava'

Harry's heart had sank. Mr. Williams wasn't doing well. His mind started whirling with thought after thought – what if he never saw the family whole again? He had paced his room holding the letter in his hands, the nervous energy needing to get out somehow. Then he realized something he hadn't considered before.

Magic.

Why he hadn't thought about it earlier, he didn't know (maybe the Dursleys had been a little bit successful in squashing the magic out of him). But maybe there was something hecoulddo. He hadn't heard of anyone in the magical world having cancer before. Maybe it was because for wizards, it wasn't an issue. Like a cold and a Pepper-Up Potion.

Harry had scribbled a note to Ava, feeling adrenaline thudding through his veins.

'Hi Ava,

It's also really good to hear from you, too. No need to be worried about me, I'm doing great. I'm having a really great time in London. I'm helping my godfather clean up his house, and I'm spending loads of time with my friends. We've been having a lot of fun together. – 'Harry paused, and considered scrunching up the paper and starting over. He didn't want Ava to be upset the same way he had been, left out from the group. But he also wanted to reassure her everything was fine. Because itwasfine. ' –I miss hanging out with you as well. Have you watched any new movies lately? I would love to hear about it. School is quite far away actually – 'another pause. How much should he tell her? How much was heallowedto tell her? ' –so it's not possible for me to come back on weekends. Maybe for Christmas though? I'd really like to see you all again. I'll even brave going back to Privet Drive for you.

I'm sorry your dad is not doing well. I've been thinking, and I think I might have an idea of how to help. I'll keep you updated. I'm not sure if I'll be able to fix this, but I'm going to try. Don't give up hope just yet. There are also great doctors taking care of him.

You can always write to me about these things. It doesn't bother me at all. – 'Harry paused once more, debating whether he should write his last thought or not. He decided it was worth it. ' –I know what it's like to be alone and dealing with something awful. I wouldn't ever leave you to face it on your own.

Hear from you soon, I hope,

- Harry'

After days of cleaning, and avoiding Mrs. Weasley's watchful eye, it was finally the morning of their departure. And there was arguing again. Harry drooped when he came to the kitchen for breakfast and realized it was about him.

"You can't come, Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley said, furiously scrambling eggs as she spoke. "It's not safe for you, and it's not safe for Harry."

Sirius scoffed at this.

"What's going to happen? You-know-who is going to jump out from one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express?" He said.

"Someone could recognize you – "

"I'll go as Padfoot – "

"That doesn't mean no one canrecognize you," Mrs. Weasley hissed, spilling half the pan of eggs onto the plate in front of Harry.

"Eat up," she commanded. Harry tried to oblige but he was having difficulty getting his hand to pick up his fork. Ron nudged him roughly.

"Keep your head down and eat," Ron muttered. Harry found his fingers and grabbed his fork.

"It's reckless, and it's selfish for you to join," Mrs. Weasley continued. "The Guard is there to protect Harry, not give you a day out!"

"I'ma part of the Order too," Sirius snapped. "I can protect him too!"

"And what if you're caught? How can you protect Harry then?"

"You want me to come, don't you Harry?" Sirius asked, turning in his seat to face Harry.

"That's not fair, Sirius, don't put him in that position!" Mrs. Weasley said.

"Harry?" Sirius said, ignoring her. Harry glanced up at Sirius and then looked down again.

"I… I don't…" Harry said quietly. He didn't know what the right answer was. He felt his stomach start to knot. "I-If he, wants, I mean – "

"This is not up to you, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "Moody is not going to let you come, Sirius, so you might as well drop it."

After a completely silent rest of breakfast, everyone went upstairs, threw the remainder of their belongings into the trunks, gathered their owls and Crookshanks, and went back downstairs. Sirius was standing by the door, arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry mumbled as he got near. Sirius shrugged moodily.

"Have a good term," Sirius said, reaching out and giving him a one-arm hug.

Harry tried to hold himself together, still the shaking he felt in his knees as he was pulled close to Sirius.

"Make sure to write," he said, and then sighed. He turned, and gave Harry a proper hug. "And take care of yourself."

"I will," Harry answered, giving a small hug back. With the help of Tonks, Harry carried his trunk outside to join the rest of the travelers to walk to King's Cross.