Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10097093.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Other(s), Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Sirius_Black, Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Slash_sex, Out_of_Character, Sexual_Content, Alternate_Universe,
      Crossover, Drama, First_Time, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-01-25 Completed: 2011-06-15 Chapters: 8/8 Words: 16670
****** Pleasant Dreams ******
by Lissy [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     In an attempt to rid Harry of his nightmares, Sirius gives him a
     dreamcatcher from the Black family vault. Little did he know, the
     legend behind the dreamcatcher is real and causes some
     rather...pleasant...side effects for Harry. Jacob/Harry.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Prologue Saving Harry Potter *****
Prologue – Saving Harry Potter
              “People must help one another; it is nature’s law.”
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
Albus Dumbledore was not perfect. Even he, a man one hundred fourteen years of
age, could make such life-altering mistakes. Of course, the decisions he made
could not be considered mistakes until it was too late to be considered the
right choice. Most often than not, however, Albus was correct on his educated
guesses and assumptions, which was why so many people blindly trusted him to be
the leader. The unfortunate thing about being wrong in Albus’ case was that the
mistakes he made had devastating, unexpected consequences. It had happened
first with someone he had trusted explicitly and had fallen madly in love with
only to be so cruelly betrayed that he never shared his heart intimately with
anyone else. Then it had happened again with his own student, a bright young
man whom Albus had considered making his protégée until said boy started to
follow in his ex-lover’s footsteps. And now, years later when he didn’t think
anything else could go so dreadfully wrong, Albus had lost the Wizarding
world’s savior.
Not in the literal sense, mind you. No, Albus’ mistake could have cost the
Wizarding world a lot more than it would have if the Boy Who Lived had chosen
to run away. Instead, Albus not only betrayed the fragile trust of one very
important Harry Potter, but he had also consequentially helped traumatize the
child savior. It wasn’t his intention when he kept Harry in the Tri-Wizard
tournament to ruin the young teenager’s life; no, that’s not what he had wanted
at all. Although it was unfair that Harry had to grow up rather quickly and he
didn’t wish to add even more weight on the poor boy’s shoulders, Harry was
entered in a magically binding contract. There was absolutely no way out of it,
not without severely harming Harry. Albus hadn’t expected for poor Cedric
Diggory to be another casualty of Voldemort’s and for Harry to be witness to
that monster’s return. That had seemed to be the catalyst of a series of
unfortunate events. As a result, the Diggory family would bury their only son
pre-maturely, Voldemort was ripped apart because of Harry’s magic reacting to
his anger, and, now, Harry resembled a zombie more than anything.
Instead of the bright and lively boy that loved to spend time with his friends
and family, there was a stranger in his place. Those bright emerald eyes that
were like doors to Harry’s soul were now dull and empty, the lively spark that
used to reside in them dead. His face was now sunken in and Albus knew for a
fact that he hadn’t had anything to eat for the past three days at least,
according to Miss Hermione Granger. Harry’s skin, which had been a golden tan,
was now clammy white and there were now dark bags under his eyes—a result of
not sleeping for fear of nightmares, according to Mister Ronald Weasley. He
resembled nothing but a shell of the happy teenager he had once been and Albus
was to blame for that. Had he been more capable of protecting Harry from the
beginning, then Cedric would be alive and Harry wouldn’t be so crushed right
now. The elderly Headmaster didn’t know what to do or even how to begin to help
a depressed boy such as Harry. He stroked his long beard in contemplation, his
brows furrowed in thought. And, when his frustration was about to hit the roof,
an idea rammed into him like the Hogwarts Express. He had only one chance left
and, damn it all, he was going to make this work.
Grabbing the Floo powder, Albus threw a pinch in the fireplace and called,
“Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress’ office.”
Minerva blinked in surprise. “Albus, what can I do for you?”
“Could you please send Mr. Potter up here? I need to speak with him.”
Minerva’s eyes narrowed as she set down her quill and turned her full attention
towards the elderly man’s head in the fire. “What are you planning, Albus? The
poor boy has been through enough!”
“I merely wish to speak with Mr. Potter regarding his living arrangements for
the summer,” Albus soothed gently.
“Those Muggles are absolutely horrid, Albus! Why must you insist on sending Mr.
Potter there year after year? They are the most unfit guardians I’ve ever had
the displeasure of seeing and the way they speak to their own flesh and blood
is abusive.”
“Minerva, the reason why Harry must return to the Dursleys is because of the—”
“Blood protection wards, so you’ve told me,” Minerva snapped. “Still, I must
continue to protest adamantly about the placement of Mr. Potter.”
Albus smiled at how riled up his Deputy Headmistress was getting on behalf of
Harry. “Minerva, I wish to inform Harry that he is to spend his summer at
Grimmauld Place with Sirius,” he told her gently.
“And I will continue to fight you on this, Albus! Mr. Potter deserves t—”
Minerva abruptly stopped talking and blinked in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
“You were right all along, Minerva,” Albus admitted. “Young Harry will not
return to the Dursley residence. I believe Harry needs now, more than ever, the
comfort only his godfather can provide. I will be adding extra protections to
Grimmauld Place, and Harry will spend the summer with Sirius.”
“What about the blood wards?” Minerva asked suspiciously, not believing Albus
to give up so quickly. The elderly man was extremely stubborn and she’d tried
unsuccessfully for years to get Albus to allow Harry a life outside of the
Dursley residence during the summer.
Albus sighed, feeling very old. “There is no point in keeping Harry safe with
the blood wards if it risks his mental health. Mr. Diggory’s death has affected
Harry deeply and if we send him back to his aunt’s house, I’m afraid he will be
as good as dead. They are, as you said, unfit guardians.”
Minerva felt her indignation and anger at Albus fade slightly, remembering that
the Headmaster was only human. “Why send him to unfit guardians in the first
place?” she asked softly.
Albus gazed at his dear friend sadly. “You know me, Minerva. It was necessary
for the cause that, although he was mistreated, Harry was completely safe and
protected from Death Eaters and the threat of Voldemort’s return. The ends
would justify the means. Voldemort is gone, now. Death Eaters would still need
to be taken care of, but Harry can rest now. His destiny is complete. I have
already wronged the boy deeply. Mark my words, I will rectify past mistakes.”
Minerva smiled softly. “I will go get Mr. Potter,” she murmured as she stood
up.
Albus nodded his head. “Thank you, Minerva.”
Minerva smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her robes. “That boy has been through
more trials than he’s deserved. He’s saved the entire Wizarding world when we
needed him; it’s about time we repaid the favor.”
***** Chapter 1 A Plan *****
Chapter 1 – A Plan
          “We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.”
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
Nothing could describe the joy Sirius Black felt when Dumbledore informed him
that he would get Harry for the summer. It was like a dream come true for him.
He had failed Harry once before by choosing vengeance instead of his duty as a
godfather; by choosing to kill Peter for his treachery against Lily and James
instead of taking care of what they considered the most important person in
their world. Dumbledore was giving him a second chance, as the old man often
tended to do to the people who least deserved them, and Sirius promised himself
to do right by Harry. With that promise and the knowledge of the unfortunate
events just before Harry’s fourth year came to a close, Sirius was ready to see
Harry at the lowest point of the young man’s life and help him through it.
It broke his heart to see his godson in such a state.
Instead of the bright boy he’d exchanged countless letters with all of last
year, a stranger was in his place. When Harry had walked through the doors of
Grimmauld Place, Sirius was shocked at how skinny and unhealthy his godson was.
In Harry’s third year he had passed it off as Harry being a growing boy and not
quite hitting puberty yet. Now, though, it was painfully obvious how little the
boy had eaten and how he wasn’t taking care of himself.
Despite Dumbledore warning him of how poorly Harry was taking the aftermath of
the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Sirius hadn’t been fully prepared to see the
severity of the situation. Even in the most deadly of situations, Sirius had
always been joking; it was in his nature. Now, though, what Harry needed in his
life was a caring adult. What he needed to figure out was the course of action
he should take.
Sirius frowned sadly as he sat down at the kitchen table and took out a quill,
sheet of parchment, and a pot of ink. His smooth calligraphy graced the
parchment as he began to write down his plans. Harry needed several basic
things: food, water, clothing, shelter, and love. Sirius tapped the quill
against his nose. Dumbledore had told him that Harry witnessed Diggory’s death
and that it gave him nightmares. The youngest Weasley and Harry’s best friend,
Ron, told them that he would wake in the middle of the night screaming and that
it’d take a while to get him to calm down. His frown deepened. He hadn’t heard
Harry screaming the entire week that his godson had been staying with him.
‘He can’t do magic outside of school. It’s obvious that he has the nightmares,
but how is he hiding them from me?’ Sirius pondered. His eyes widened and he
snapped his fingers.
“Kreacher!” he called.
The grumpy house elf appeared and barely bowed. “Master called me?” he asked
before muttering under his breath about having to serve a blood traitor.
“Quiet,” Sirius demanded sharply. “Have you noticed anything odd concerning
Harry when he sleeps?”
“Filthy half-blood soiling my mistress’ house,” Kreacher grumbled angrily, “has
silencing dome conjured around bed when he lays his worthless hide—”
“Enough!” Sirius yelled. “I do not care if you speak ill of me, but you will
not dare to speak foully about Harry or I will hand ownership of you to
Dumbledore. Have I made myself clear?”
Kreacher’s eyes widened at the threat. “Crystal,” he snarled.
“Now, you will discreetly figure out how Harry is conjuring this silencing dome
around his bed and prevent it from happening in the future. Understood?”
“Yes, Master,” Kreacher grit out hatefully before disappearing.
Sirius took in deep breaths to calm himself down. If he and Kreacher didn’t
hate each other so much, he would free Kreacher without a second thought. The
old house elf, as annoying and frustrating as he was, knew too much, though,
and would most likely give away information about him, the Order of the Phoenix
(as he had openly discussed offering Grimmauld Place as its Headquarters to
Dumbledore just weeks prior to Voldemort’s impromptu resurrection and
consequential destruction), and Harry.
Sirius would be damned before he let anyone harm his godson again.
There was a ding at his fireplace and Sirius grinned, placing his quill down
and walking towards the living room. “Moony, pleasant to see you!” he said
happily at the head in the fireplace, grateful for the distraction.
“You as well, Padfoot,” Remus replied, grinning. “Is it alright for me to come
through?”
“Of course! Need you ask?”
He watched with rabbits frolicking about in his stomach as his old friend (and
possibly something more in the future, if they could manage to rekindle what
they had lost when Lily and James died) stepped through the fireplace and
grinned devilishly at him. They seemed to survey each other briefly, to
reassure themselves that the other really was alright, and then embraced in a
tender hug.
“How is everything?” Remus asked pleasantly. “Where’s Harry?”
Sirius’s face lost the smile. He sighed sadly. “He’s in his room, Remus.
He…he’s not doing so well.”
Remus frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” he admonished gently.
“It’s just, I was so happy to get Harry this summer, Moony,” Sirius replied
quietly, sinking down onto one of the couches. “I thought Harry would like some
space so I let him stay in his room like he’d requested. Something doesn’t sit
right with me, though. Ron told Dumbledore that Harry was having nightmares
that wake him screaming bloody murder, and I’ve yet to hear one. Kreacher just
informed me that Harry has managed to conjure a silencing dome around his bed.
I’m trying to figure out what to do. I know Harry probably won’t like me too
much when I have to invade his privacy, but I need to make sure that he is
looking after himself and isn’t falling apart. I can’t fail him again, Remus. I
can’t.”
Remus hugged Sirius once more. “You won’t,” he assured quietly, using the pad
of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear that trailed down the side of Sirius’
face. “What can I do to help?”
Sirius gave a watery, bark of a laugh. “Are you sure you’re up for anything? I
mean, the full moon was only a few days ago.”
Remus grinned. “I can assure you, I’m more than up for this. We both have to
look after Harry since Lily and James are gone. Besides, he’s a good kid. He
doesn’t deserve everything that’s happened to him.”
Sirius nodded his head and stood up. “I’ve started writing down a list of
things that Harry needs,” he said as he led Remus back to the kitchen. “I just
don’t quite know where to start or how to help him.”
Remus looked over the brief, simple list. “It seems like the root of his
problems is the nightmares. If he didn’t have them, he could probably sleep a
lot better. If he sleeps better, he may be more inclined to eat.”
Sirius nodded thoughtfully. “How do I get him a decent night’s rest, though?
Dreamless Sleep is too addicting, and I don’t think doping him on sleeping
potions will cure him at all.”
Remus hummed. “You also need to get him to talk about what had happened at the
graveyard,” he said softly. “Bottling everything up inside and not having any
way to vent won’t help him at all.”
Sirius closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He desperately racked his brain
for suggestions, but found that he couldn’t think of anything. Chewing his lip
in contemplation, Sirius wondered what Lily would’ve done. He didn’t care if
the remedy was Muggle or magical as long as it cured Harry and ended his
torment. Despite his attempts, anything Lily would’ve done to stop bad dreams
would’ve occurred during their first year before Lily discovered the magic of
potions. Even without spending twelve years in Azkaban, Sirius would’ve had
some trouble remembering.
“Remus, what would Lily have done?” he asked the werewolf, his voice muffled as
he mumbled the question into the table.
Remus blinked. “I’m fairly certain that she drank peppermint tea,” he mused
softly. “You could also drink chamomile tea, put lavender oils in a bath, or
increase water and fiber intake.”
Sirius cocked an eyebrow. “You remember all of that?” he asked in disbelief.
Remus blushed slightly. “Well, I spent a good deal of my time living in the
Muggle world with a friend who also suffered from nightmares,” he defended.
“And Muggles believe that having a low level of a certain hormone in your body,
dopamine, can cause nightmares or bad dreams so they try to raise that level.”
“How long would that take?” Sirius inquired.
Remus shrugged helplessly. “It might be a long time before Harry stops
experiencing nightmares. His bad dreams are likely to have been caused by
Diggory’s death, though I can’t say for certain since I have no idea what his
sleeping patterns were before. Traumatic events most often trigger a long-
lasting series of recurrent nightmares, and I’m fairly certain that Harry has
been experiencing that.”
“Harry wrote to me about some of his bad dreams,” Sirius said sharply, standing
up and sprinting up the stairs to his bedroom. He could hear Remus following
him as he ruffled through his trunk. In less than a few moments, he brought out
a stack of letters tied together. “These were more prophetic in nature, though,
and the only thing I can think of to block the nightmares is for him to learn
Occlumency. Perhaps meditation exercises, as well.”
“Other cultures also have remedies for bad dreams,” Remus said. “I remember
Lily telling me about dreamcatchers.”
“Dreamcatchers?” Sirius asked curiously.
“Yes, dreamcatchers. They are Native American amulets that consist of a hoop
made from willow and covered with sage as well as a web made from deer sinew.
Feathers are also normally attached to the dreamcatcher to assist the flight of
good dreams,” Remus explained, easily slipping into teacher mode.
“You’ve gotten smarter, Remus,” Sirius praised, smirking slightly at the
blushing werewolf. He paused and his eyes opened wide in realization. “A
dreamcatcher just might be what we need!”
“There’s no guarantee that a dreamcatcher will work, Sirius,” Remus protested
softly, not wanting the other man to get his hopes up.
“I remember seeing a dreamcatcher thing or something like it in the Black
family vault, Remus! Why would a Muggle artifact find its way inside of the
Black family vault if it didn’t work?”
“A dreamcatcher? In the Black family vault?” Remus asked in disbelief.
“Yes! I saw it before I ran away from home,” Sirius replied hurriedly, unable
to contain the excitement that bubbled in his stomach. “It was on a pedestal in
the vault and seemed to be really important. We need to go get it as soon as we
can!”
“Wait, what if it’s bewitched?” Gazing at Sirius’ expression, Remus immediately
regretted asking.
Sirius look offended. “Do you really think I’d give anything to Harry from my
family without thoroughly checking it first?” he asked defensively.
Remus ducked his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Sirius. I didn’t mean to imply…”
Sirius sighed softly. “It’s alright, Remus,” he replied gently. “We still have
a lot to work through.” He reached for Remus’ hand and squeezed it. “And we’ll
make it. First, though, we need to help Harry. I’ll be needing your assistance
in retrieving the dreamcatcher.”
Remus smiled and nodded his head. “Of course.”
Sirius smiled back and stood up. “I’m going to see if Harry is up to a trip to
Diagon Alley. The fresh air will be good for him. Besides, staying in Grimmauld
Place all day every day is enough to drive someone absolutely batty.”
He left the room quickly, not noticing Remus’ sad expression at his last
statement, and knocked softly on the door to Harry’s bedroom. He waited
somewhat impatiently for his godson to open the door and barely prevented the
soft gasp that wanted to escape from between his lips. Harry was looking even
unhealthier every day.
“Sirius?”
Sirius barely found his voice. “Hey, Harry. Remus is here and we were just
thinking about taking a trip to Diagon Alley. You should come with us.”
Harry bit his lip gently. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” the young
Gryffindor asked quietly. “Even with Pettigrew captured, people still aren’t
completely comfortable with you in public. I’d rather they not give you a hard
time considering the fact that they’re still nuts about…about what happened
last month.”
Sirius noticed Harry’s small flinch at the reminder of the end of the Tri-
Wizard Tournament. “I’m positive, Harry. We could use the fresh air and I’d
really enjoy spending the time with you. Please?”
Harry hesitated briefly before nodding his head. “Let me shower?”
“Take your time,” Sirius insisted. “Remus and I will wait; we’re in no hurry.
After we finish shopping, we’ll grab a bite to eat. Deal?”
Harry nodded his head and disappeared into his room again.
‘We’ll help you, Harry,’ Sirius vowed silently. ‘You’ll make it through this.
I’ll make sure of it.’
***** Chapter 2 An Outing *****
Chapter 2 – An Outing
     "Happiness is a by-product of an effort to make someone else happy."
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
Sirius bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently. He ignored the amused look
from Remus and focused on the stairs, boring holes into the steps. Thirty
minutes. He had been waiting thirty agonizing minutes for Harry to be ready for
a trip out. Biting his lip, Sirius wondered if Harry perhaps slipped in the
shower and fell and hit his head hard and was bleeding on the floor as he
thought of this. His horror must've etched across his face because a moment
later Remus was barely preventing him from rushing up the stairs and saving his
precious godson from the evil shower floor.
"Stop, Moony, I have to go save Harry!" he protested, attempting to wriggle out
of Remus' strong grip.
"Save him from what, Sirius? Having a long, relaxing bath?" Remus asked, his
eyebrow arched in disbelief.
"He could've slipped and hit his head and he might be bleeding or need some
medical care!" Sirius exclaimed. "I'll check on Harry, you Floo Madame Pomfrey
and tell her to be ready with Blood Replenishing potions, some Bruise Salve—"
"And perhaps something for your wild imagination?"
Remus and Sirius turned towards the stairs where Harry was standing with his
arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised to his hairline. They
stared at each other for some time before Remus suddenly let go of Sirius,
causing the ex-convict to let out a startled yelp as he crashed to the floor.
He threw a withering glare at Remus as he stood up and righted himself. "Ready
to go?" he asked Harry as if he wasn't imagining his godson's tragic fall in
the shower mere moments ago.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked hesitantly, eyeing Sirius warily.
"Peachy," Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively. "Everything's perfection;
absolutely astonishing. Moony, stop grinning at me and help me find my coin
purse."
Harry glanced at Remus, who seemed to barely be holding in his snickers, and
stared back at Sirius. "Coin purse?" he asked with the smallest hint of a smile
on his lips.
Sirius blushed. "Yes, well, it keeps my Galleons easily accessible," he
defended. "Moony, why aren't you helping me?"
"Because we've already looked for your coin purse, found it, and placed it in
my care until we reach Diagon Alley," Remus replied breezily. "You don't
remember?"
Harry giggled lightly at Sirius' blushing face and shook his head as he walked
towards the kitchen. "I'm going to get a drink of water and then we can leave."
Sirius waited until Harry disappeared into the next room before he began to
lightly smack Remus on the arm repetitively. "You let me embarrass myself," he
whined indignantly. "How could you let me do that?"
Remus chuckled heartily. "Relax, it was only in front of Harry."
"That's even worse!"
When Harry returned, Sirius quickly masked his embarrassment and led the way to
Diagon Alley. The trip there was fairly uneventful, though Harry would
sometimes look at his godfather and randomly snicker. Sirius was torn between
feeling happy that he had managed to not only put a smile on Harry's face, but
also make him laugh, and feeling embarrassed that he had made such a fool of
himself. He settled for happy since he was sure that this was more-than-likely
the first time Harry had been even a little happy since the end of the Tri-
Wizard Tournament.
Surveying his godson out of the corner of his eye, Sirius realized that Harry
looked better than he did before he took a shower. His eyes narrowed slightly
as he subtly recognized a light covering of magic surrounding Harry's body.
Having been an Auror for years before his unfortunate incarceration, he could
tell when someone had on a glamour. It took him a moment, but from the feel of
the magic, he could determine that the magic wasn't regular Wizard magic, but
house-elf magic.
His eyes widened at the revelation and he sneaked a peek at Remus. Remus
glanced back at him and Sirius discreetly nodded his head in Harry's direction.
The werewolf took a brief moment to look over Harry before his eyes widened and
he shared a sad, knowing glance with Sirius.
Sirius took a deep breath to calm himself before he grabbed Harry's hand.
"We're going to Gringotts first," he murmured softly in his godson's ear. "And
then we'll just buy whatever we want, okay?"
Harry cracked a tiny smile at Sirius' words and nodded his head. "Shall I get
some money from my vault?"
"Nonsense!" Sirius exclaimed as Remus pulled out his wand and tapped on the
bricks that led to Diagon Alley. "I'll be buying whatever you want. I have too
much money and not enough desire to spend it all on myself."
Harry bit his lip. "Are you sure? It's really no trouble for me to go to my—"
"I'm not listening to your arguments!" Sirius covered his ears and shook his
head, peeking at Harry through his lashes. "I'm buying, and that's final! One
more word about it and I shall also take you to Muggle London and buy out the
entire city!"
Harry laughed silently and nodded his head. "Alright, you win," he murmured.
"For now…"
Sirius did a little victory dance, hoping to keep Harry in a happy mood. They
walked into Diagon Alley together, ignoring the whispers of Sirius truly being
the Devil Incarnate and corrupting their precious Boy Who Lived. Harry began to
look uncomfortable and Sirius absentmindedly wondered if he should whip out his
wand and try to live up to his horrid, murdering reputation thirteen years ago.
"Ignore them," Remus said softly, glancing at the two raven-haired wizards.
"They aren't worth it."
"I know," Harry replied quietly. "Still, I hate it when they stare. It's like
I'm a piece of meat and they're very hungry."
"I can turn them into meat if you'd like," Sirius said hopefully, subjecting
Harry to his puppy dog eyes. He knew they worked; he could practically hear the
wistful sighs of surrounding witches and wizards.
"Maybe you should," Remus decided, glaring at everyone who so much as looked at
Sirius lustfully. He snaked an arm around the animagus possessively.
Harry shook his head and smiled at their antics. "Let's hurry to Gringotts," he
said, abruptly changing the subject before Sirius had time to entertain his
idea. "I'd like to go to Flourish and Blotts and get something to read."
"Ew." Sirius scrunched his nose. "Learning is such a legal burden. Moony will
take you there; I'll get us some ice cream."
Remus and Harry shared a look and laughed. "How about we split up?" the
werewolf suggested. "I'll take Harry to Flourish and Blotts while you go to
Gringotts. We can get that ice cream later."
Sirius thought on it. He didn't really want Harry to see the dreamcatcher until
he was able to inspect it and make sure it wouldn't cause his godson more
damage than good. "If it's okay with Harry," he said reluctantly.
Harry shrugged his shoulders and offered the man a small smile. "It might make
things easier for you," he replied softly. "That way I can satisfy my legal
burden, you can go to Gringotts, and you can meet us at Flourish and Blotts
when we're finished. This way, you won't have to wait for us."
Sirius smiled at Harry's logic and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Yeah, that sounds like a smarter way of doing things," he said with a grin.
"Alright then, I'm off. I'll be back in thirty to forty-five minutes."
Remus nodded at Sirius as he placed his hand gently at the small of Harry's
back and led him towards the bookstore. Sirius watched them go with a smile,
happy that he had lifted Harry's spirits and that he had Remus on his side. He
felt more confident that they could actually help Harry get better, and it
excited him.
He was going to really get his godson back.
***** Chapter 3 Legend of the Dreamcatcher *****
Chapter 3 – Legend of the Dreamcatcher
     "It's not hard to make decisions when you know what your values are…"
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
Sirius never thought he could be so awed by Gringotts.
Growing up in the Wizarding world, he only ever saw it as a bank run by
goblins. There was nothing magical or special about it because it was like an
ordinary building. Now, however, as he approached the Wizarding bank for the
first time since he'd regained his freedom, he was filled with the same awe he
was sure many Muggleborns felt upon laying their eyes on it.
Sirius felt a secure feeling enclose around him and he smiled a little,
ignoring the surrounding people that still eyed him with distrust. He didn't
think he could miss something as simple as going to the bank since his
incarceration. Moony had told him, albeit sadly, that Sirius more-than-likely
missed the freedom to do so more than the actual bank.
The ex-convict tended to ignore the sad look as well as his feelings of bitter
resentment.
Walking into the bank, Sirius couldn't help but sway his hips slightly and
begin to strut. He felt more like his title, Lord Black, and couldn't help but
smirk slightly. Being a prankster by nature, he couldn't help but feel like out
of the entire Wizarding world he'd gotten the last laugh. It was…victorious.
"May I help you?" the goblin at the front desk sneered.
Sirius grinned wolfishly. "Why, yes, you may," he said cheerfully. "I need to
visit my family vault."
"Key?"
Sirius dug into his coin purse Moony had stuffed in his hand before leaving,
ignoring the goblin's raised eyebrow and amused smirk, and pulled out his gold
key. "Here you go," he chirped.
The goblin looked at the key and glanced at Sirius once more before nodding his
head. "Follow Ragnok, Lord Black. He will lead you to your vault."
Sirius nodded and smiled pleasantly, closing his coin purse and stuffing it in
his pocket away from criticizing eyes. He managed to walk two steps before
someone called his name. Stiffening slightly, he turned around with a polite
smile. "Narcissa, always a pleasure," he murmured softly, Pureblood etiquette
kicking in as he placed a gentle kiss on her hand.
"Sirius," Narcissa returned evenly, her lips curled in the smallest of smiles
as she placed her hand back at her side. "I was wondering if we could perhaps
meet for lunch."
Sirius eyed her with open distrust and suspicion. "What for?" he asked bluntly,
his Gryffindor side promptly kicking out his Pureblood upbringing.
"I can't see how my cousin is faring after being locked away in Azkaban for
twelve years?" Narcissa cocked an eyebrow.
Sirius didn't buy it. "Narcissa, I have some business to attend to and I was
going to have lunch with my godson and Remus."
To Narcissa's credit, her upper lip curled in distaste was not noticeable by
other people. "It is important that I speak with you," she said softly.
Sirius looked into her eyes, searching for truth or sincerity or something good
in them. He hesitated slightly before nodding. "After I finish my business
here, I was going to pay for Harry's books at Flourish and Blotts and then we
can meet at the Leaky Cauldron afterwards. I guess Harry will have to wait a
little longer for that ice cream."
Narcissa barely prevented a disgusted shiver from rolling down her back at the
thought of dining at a place of little to no class, but nodded. "Our meeting
involves my son and so I shall be bringing him."
Sirius winced at the thought of the spoiled, arrogant junior Malfoy. "Do you
really think that wise?" Harry would probably blow a gasket at having to eat
along with his rival from school, and Sirius couldn't blame him. If he'd been
forced to eat lunch with Severus Snape outside of school, there'd be hell to
pay.
Narcissa seemed to think along the same lines as Sirius, but nodded anyways.
"It is of the utmost importance that we meet as soon as possible, and my son
needs to be with me."
Sirius sighed and took a moment to ponder it. On one hand, he really didn't
like his cousin's son and neither did Harry. He also didn't want to upset Harry
in any way. On the other hand, while he and his cousin didn't share the same
views, Narcissa wasn't nearly as bad or as fanatical as the rest of the family
had been and even covered for him when he ran away to the Potters. Granted, it
was partly (or maybe mostly) because Narcissa herself benefitted from his
leaving Grimmauld Place.
"Alright," he conceded. "But if he causes any problems, I'll be taking Harry
and leaving."
Narcissa nodded. "I would expect no less," she admitted. She smiled grimly. "My
son will behave himself, I assure you."
"Lady Malfoy, here are the documents you requested."
Narcissa took the offered folder from the goblin wordlessly. "I'll let you get
back to your business," she told Sirius quietly. "Shall we meet in an hour?"
Sirius nodded his head sharply, curious about what Narcissa had just received
but not bothering to ask her since he knew she wouldn't tell him. "See you
soon," he muttered.
"This way, Lord Black," Ragnok said, reminding Sirius of his presence.
Sirius turned away from his retreating cousin, embarrassed. "Sorry about that,"
he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Ragnok disregarded his apology and silently led him to the Black vault. Sirius
rubbed his palms together, nervous about what he would find. What if someone
removed the dreamcatcher? What if it was a Dark artifact and would harm Harry
further? He shook his head and worried his bottom lip. If he kept freaking out,
he'd worry himself into a frenzy and make a fool of himself like he'd done
earlier.
Sirius' cheeks reddened as he recalled Harry's amused expression. He could
blame James for making him embrace his wild imagination.
"The Black family vault," Ragnok announced tonelessly, looking bored.
Sirius nodded his head in recognition and watched anxiously as the vault was
opened. He stepped into it and immediately walked towards the rear part of the
vault, ignoring the large mounds of gold and bronze. Towards the back of the
vault was a door to the chamber of the Black family's most ancient and prized
artifacts. The security measures taken to protect the chamber of valuable
antiquities only served to further panic Sirius.
Every Black at the age of fifteen was taken to the vault and shown the chamber
protecting their treasures. It wouldn't be accessible until they were sixteen.
At the time Sirius became of age to go through the door, his mind was already
made up about running away. He'd only taken a cursory glance before dismissing
everything. So angry and disgusted at his family's fanaticism to Lord
Voldemort, Sirius didn't fully appreciate the true value most of the artifacts
had. That only seemed to further anger his mother.
Still, despite his dismissal at the chamber filled with the Black family's
treasures, the dreamcatcher was forever burned in his mind. It stood out from
everything else in the chamber. Placed on a pedestal, the dreamcatcher gave off
a somewhat ominous vibe. The hoop was large and black. The web in the middle
was done intricately, almost like a spider's web but with more finesse and
obvious care. The feathers that hung from the dreamcatcher were a mix of
emerald green and smoky gray. It was beautiful.
"You mustn't lurk in doorways; it's rude."
Sirius yelped, jumping at the sound of the amused voice. "Sorry?" he
apologized, looking around. He spotted the portrait on the wall and smiled
nervously. "I don't remember there being a portrait here."
The man in the portrait shrugged his shoulders. "You were here for how long?"
Sirius flushed brightly. "True," he muttered before peering at the man through
his eyelashes. "Who are you?"
"A cousin," the man said shortly. "The real question is, what are you doing
here?"
Sirius chewed on his bottom lip. "Well, my godson is having nightmares," he
began to explain. "And Moony told me about dreamcatchers and I remember seeing
one in here. So I was wondering if I could kind of loan it to him, granted that
it doesn't have a dark curse on it or anything."
The man smiled amusedly. "I can tell you definitely came from my side of the
family," he said with a bark of laughter, reminding Sirius of his own laugh.
"Now, about the dreamcatcher you wish to take, it is my duty to tell you about
it first. Then you can make a decision."
"Is it dangerous?" Sirius asked immediately. "Will it put my Harry in a coma?
Will it affect his mental health? Are there any negative side effects?"
"Relax," the man in the portrait said calmly. "There isn't anything wrong
concerning the dreamcatcher, per se. There's just a legend about it that you
may want to be aware of before giving it to your godson."
"What is that legend…?" Sirius trailed off, realizing he didn't know who he was
talking to.
"You may call me Mr. Black," the man said dryly. "And if you can stay quiet
long enough, I will tell you it."
Sirius smacked his lips shut and conjured a chair before folding his hands
together and becoming the picture of innocence.
Mr. Black snorted in amusement, obviously not buying Sirius' act. "The Blacks,
as you know, are a very Ancient and Noble bloodline," Mr. Black started. "Our
family started before Merlin and before magic became known."
Sirius gasped, his eyes widening. "But, we're taught that the line started
after Hogwarts was built."
"That is because when the Black family started, they were Native American
Muggles," Mr. Black replied, smiling at Sirius' shocked expression. "As time
passed, our family developed a gene in response to the infestation of vampires.
The first transformation began with Ephraim Black. He was able to shapeshift
into a very large wolf. Other members of the Quileute tribe shapeshifted as
well and they became a pack. Together, they protected the humans residing near
their land on the Olympic Peninsula against vampires. There was one pack of
vampires, however, that were different. The Cullens pledged to eat only animals
and referred to themselves as vegetarians."
Sirius snorted. "Vegetarian vampires?"
Mr. Black smirked in amusement. "Indeed," he commented dryly. "As I'm sure you
can guess, our family did not believe them. However, Ephraim Black gave them
the benefit of a doubt and drew up a treaty with them. As long as the Cullens
stayed away from Quileute territory and did not kill or turn any humans in the
area surrounding it, the vampires could stay."
"Did they break the treaty?" Sirius inquired.
"No, they did not," Mr. Black admitted, "but in the end things took a turn for
the south and the Cullens inadvertently were partially to blame."
"What happened?" Sirius asked, leaning closer towards the portrait.
"The Cullens had left before the humans could get suspicious about their lack
of aging and whatnot. They returned years later, however, and caused Ephraim's
grandson, Jacob, as well as other members of the Quileute tribe, to transform."
Mr. Black frowned slightly. "One of the Cullens, Edward, became infatuated with
a human, Isabella Swan. She was Jacob's friend. Jacob, of course, did not
approve. Even before he knew the Cullens were vampires or he'd even
transformed, his instincts told him to stay away from him.
"There was a time in Edward and Bella's relationship that they split up. He and
his family left the area and Bella got closer to Jacob. Jacob was able to
provide her comfort during her depressing state and eventually the two did
everything together."
"He fell in love with her," Sirius murmured softly, his eyes narrowed. He could
only imagine how heartbreaking it must've been to fall in love with someone who
was clearly trying to get over a past relationship.
"He did," Mr. Black replied softly, "and she loved him back. However, she was
still in love with Edward and was only too happy to run back to him when he
returned with the promise of working things out. It crushed Jacob."
"That's awful," Sirius whispered.
"It is," Mr. Black agreed. "It crushed him to the point where he began to
neglect his duties. Instead of protecting the humans in the surrounding area,
he failed to kill a particular vampire, James, and it cost Bella her humanity.
Jacob was so distraught that he went to his tribe's shaman and begged for help.
The shaman agreed to ease Jacob's pain and sealed him in that dreamcatcher over
there."
"What?" Sirius cried, standing in outrage. "I thought he was supposed to help
Jacob!"
"He did," Mr. Black soothed, gesturing for Sirius to sit again. "Jacob had
before prided himself on his ability to save humans from becoming a vampire's
next meal. By failing Bella, he failed not only to complete his duty, but also
his tribe and his pack. He was shamed. To prevent it from happening again, the
shaman made it so that Jacob, while in the dreamcatcher, could not only help
protect those he watched over as they slept, but it also prevented him from
being burned by love again. In order to ease his broken heart, Jacob would not
fall in love immediately with his mate as many in his tribe before had done,
nor will he be able to fall in love with anyone else. Instead, he will have the
chance to take the time to get to know his mate. He will have the chance to
heal and make his mate as happy as he can."
Sirius swallowed thickly and nodded his head, folding his hands over on his
lap. "Did his tribe know what happened to him?"
"Only his father, Billy Black, did," Mr. Black replied. "Though he understood
Jacob's reasoning, he became depressed and soon disappeared. There was no trace
of him left."
"That is an incredibly sad story," Sirius mumbled, feeling his heart constrict
painfully. "I'm not sure if I want to give Harry something so depressing…"
Mr. Black smiled gently. "You obviously have a need to give him a dreamcatcher,
yes?"
"He needs it," Sirius said softly. "He needs something to rid himself of his
nightmares. It's gotten to the point where he's terribly thin and unhealthy. I
just…I want to help him."
"Then give him the dreamcatcher," Mr. Black replied with a small smile. "I
swear on my honor as a Black that it will do him good."
Sirius thought on it. "How do you know that?" he asked though he was already
reaching for the dreamcatcher.
"Legend has it that Jacob's never failed after Bella," Mr. Black commented
lightly. "It is said that as guardian of that particular dreamcatcher, he has
healed many minds and he himself has also healed somewhat. If your godson needs
the dreamcatcher as badly as you suggest, there is nothing Jacob won't do to
help him heal."
Without another thought, Sirius touched the dreamcatcher and watched as it
melted away. He glanced at Mr. Black. "Is that supposed to happen?"
Mr. Black grinned. "It is now in the Lord's bedroom at Grimmauld Place. You
didn't really think you'd take something so valuable out of this chamber
manually, did you?"
Sirius returned the grin. "I can't wait to give it to Harry," he said, his grin
widening into a smile. "I want him to be happy again."
"With Jacob guarding helping him, I'm sure that'll happen soon."
Sirius couldn't help but believe him.
A/N: Bonus points to whoever finds a Disney movie quote in this chapter. ;)
***** Chapter 4 Narcissas Plead *****
Chapter 4 – Narcissa’s Plead
 “If you had made mistakes, even serious ones, there is always another chance
 for you. What we call failure is not the falling down, but the staying down.”
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
“Harry! Moony!” Sirius squeaed happily, giving his godson a big hug as he ran
into Flourish and Blotts. “You know how much I love you guys, riiiiiiiight?”
Harry looked bemused, but Remus’ eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. “What
have you done now?”
Sirius pouted, allowing Harry to lead him to the checkout area. “I’m always
accused of doing something,” he whined, peeking at Harry through the corner of
his eye. Harry’s lips were quirked in a grin and Sirius mentally allowed
himself to do an Irish jig.
“Isn’t that because you’re always up to something?” Harry snorted.
Sirius grinned, paying the clerk and ignoring her weird look. For Merlin’s
sake, he could not be the only Wizard in Britain that uses a coin purse.
Seriously! “Too right, you are. It’s a common side effect of having the blood
of a Marauder,” he said slyly. Wondering how best to tell them, Sirius quickly
sobered up. “There’s been a slight change in plan.”
Harry cocked his head to the side and his eyes narrowed slightly, unconsciously
copying Remus’ earlier actions. “What kind of change?”
Sirius winced. “Well, you see…it’s kind of like this…well, that is to say…”
“Spit it out, Sirius,” Remus said calmly, though he was slightly nervous on the
inside.
“My cousin Narcissa asked for us—well, just me actually, but I’m dragging the
two of you along—to meet for lunch and she’s bringing her spawn,” Sirius
blurted out. There, he said it.
Remus’ eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “What?” he asked incredulously.
“Are you serious?”
“Why, yes, I am. Really, Moony, I think it’s far too late in our relationship
to start questioning your knowledge of my name,” Sirius admonished.
“What’s so bad about seeing your cousin?” Harry inquired curiously.
Sirius hesitated briefly. “The thing is, Harry…well, you know my family is
dark, yes?”
Harry nodded. “It’s kind of hard to miss,” he said dryly, thinking about
Sirius’ mother’s portrait shrieking about dirty blood in her home.
“My cousin, Narcissa, she’s as dark as the rest of them. Before I ran away, we
didn’t quite see eye-to-eye on politics, the war, all that jazz. However, she
did help me leave. Granted, that may be because she was promised that should I
fail to take up the title as Lord Black, then whatever male spawn she has gets
the position, though that was rather pointless since I technically didn’t fail
to take up the title as Lord Black, but she helped me nevertheless. Now, she’s
requesting to speak with me. Requesting, not demanding. That automatically
tells me something is wrong. Besides, she also says it’s urgent.”
“So let’s go see her,” Harry said, shrugging. He didn’t really see what the big
deal was. As long as she didn’t talk to him or make him angry, he was perfectly
fine with ignoring her.
“She’s bringing her spawn,” Sirius repeated, biting his lip.
“And…?” Harry still didn’t see the big deal.
“What Sirius keeps failing to mention,” Remus butted in, “is that his cousin
Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy and I believe you are more than acquainted with
her child Draco Malfoy.”
Harry’s eyes widened before he looked like he was sucking on a sour lemon.
“You’re related to Malfoy?”
Sirius winced. “Yes; the little brat is my second cousin and the senior is my
cousin-in-law, so to speak.”
Harry was silent for a long time. “Ew,” he said finally. “That’s just wrong on
so many levels.”
Sirius was startled into nervous chuckles. “Yeah,” he said lamely. “But, yeah,
she asked to meet me about some urgent business. If you don’t want to meet her,
that’s totally fine. I can run and tell her to forget about our meeting.”
Harry frowned. “Just because I hate Draco Malfoy doesn’t mean I’ll hate his
mum. After all, she is your cousin. There must be something good about her.”
Sirius chuckled. “Bellatrix Lestrange is also my cousin and she’s nuttier than
a jock strap.”
Harry flushed lightly before he burst out laughing, clutching his sides. Sirius
grinned, feeling rather accomplished. Remus looked trapped between scandalized
and amused. “Only you could come up with that kind of analogy, Padfoot,” the
werewolf said sagely, shaking his head as a few chuckles escaped him.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sirius told him before turning his attention
to Harry. “Are you sure about this?”
Harry nibbled his lower lip and nodded his head. “Granted, seeing Malfoy’s
ferret face outside of Hogwarts is a nightmare, but you said his mum is your
cousin and she urgently needed to speak to you. It could be very important.” He
shrugged, slightly embarrassed at his reasoning.
Sirius blinked before a wide grin danced across his face. He let out a manly
squeal and wrapped Harry in his arms. “My little Prongslet is growing up and
making big boy decisions,” he cried, snuggling close to the wriggling savior.
He ignored the weird looks thrown in their direction. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Gerroff!” Harry gasped, a small smile tugging at his lips. With Sirius’
childish nature, Harry felt more at ease and comfortable than he had in a
while. He could always count on his godfather to make him feel happy. Granted,
attending a lunch date-thingy with Malfoy and his mum wasn’t exactly his idea
of a good time, but Sirius had done something most adults hadn’t—given him a
choice. For that, Harry could swallow his hatred of the ferret for one little
lunch date-thingy.
“I think you’re suffocating him,” Remus said dryly as he helped pry Sirius off
of Harry.
“C’mon! We’re meeting them at the Leaky Cauldron. Now, Narcissa promised that
the brat would behave, but if he says anything you don’t agree with, Harry, you
have my permission to snatch my wand and hex him!” Sirius said passionately as
he led them to the aforementioned pub.
“Sirius! You’ll both get in trouble,” Remus admonished. “Don’t listen to him,
Harry.”
Harry grinned slightly at their antics. As they neared the Leaky Cauldron,
Harry spotted several people pointing at him and looking at a copy of the Daily
Prophet. His stomach churned unpleasantly at the picture of Cedric Diggory and
his good mood instantly sunk. He paled and looked down at the floor.
Sirius noticed the mood change immediately and looked at his godson worriedly.
Scowling at Harry’s almost submissive posture, he surveyed the scene around him
and immediately spotted the group of witches surrounding the trashy paper. He
narrowed his eyes angrily and exchanged a look with Remus. They seemed to have
a conversation with their eyes before they nodded.
“We’ll get a table,” Remus said softly. “Come on, Harry.”
Harry’s head snapped up and he frowned. “What about Sirius?”
“He’ll meet us there,” Remus assured.
Harry looked at his godfather who was throwing dirty looks at the little group
of witches. “Please, just come with us,” he begged quietly. “I’d rather you not
do anything that’ll cause you to end up in Azkaban again. I just got you back.”
Sirius stopped glaring at the people and turned to stare at Harry, his eyes and
facial muscles visibly softening. “Let’s go,” he murmured quietly.
The short walk the rest of the way to the Leaky Cauldron was dreadfully
uncomfortable. Sirius was reminded that he had essentially abandoned Harry as a
baby. It broke his heart to hear Harry basically plead to not leave him again.
Entering the pub, Sirius spoke quietly with Tom and arranged to occupy a table
in one of the dark corners. With Butterbeers ordered, Sirius and Remus worked
together to set up as many privacy charms as they knew. As they waited for the
Malfoys to show up, Harry was reading one of the many books Sirius had
purchased for him. Sirius took that time to explain quietly to Remus that the
dreamcatcher was very safe and possibly the best choice to help Harry,
promising to explain in greater detail later when Narcissa and Draco finally
arrived.
Narcissa had kept Draco in the dark about who they were meeting, according to
the young blond’s look of shock, disgust, and disbelief.
“Sirius, thank you for seeing us,” Narcissa said politely. She sat stiffly in
one of the chairs, gesturing for Draco to do the same. Her look of disgust was
carefully masked, but Harry only needed to look in her eyes to see the truth.
“Narcissa, Draco,” Sirius replied, nodding his head to each. “You already know
Remus Lupin and Harry.”
Harry swallowed slightly as the tension grew.
“Potter, Lupin,” Narcissa said politely. Her lips stretched into a thin smile
and Harry was instantly reminded of Aunt Petunia being the perfect hostess
whilst in company she disliked. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Sirius nodded his head. “We’ll order first and then you can explain why we’re
here,” he said firmly. He agreed to meet them, but first Harry needed to eat.
As they ordered their food and waited for the waitress to bring it to them,
another awkward and uncomfortable silence. Draco looked like he’d swallowed a
lemon and Narcissa’s face appeared solemn and grim. It made the Gryffindors
somewhat nervous. Sirius and Remus had a quiet conversation about fixing up
some of the rooms at Grimmauld Place. Harry had his nose buried in his book,
his face one of contentment. Despite his relaxed facial features, Harry’s body
was stiff and alert.
When the food came, Sirius waited until Harry began to eat before gesturing for
Narcissa to begin speaking.
“I require your assistance,” Narcissa said, taking a hesitant sip of her tea.
When it didn’t taste nearly as bad as she thought low-quality tea could, she
continued to drink it.
“I figured as much. The question is, what do you need my assistance with?”
Sirius prompted, his stare boring holes into her figure.
Narcissa’s grip tightened on the handle to her cup and she placed it down
before it broke. She made eye contact with Sirius and said softly, “I need you
to take Draco for the summer.”
Harry’s eyes widened. Sirius, who had been eating a piece of steak, promptly
choked on his food and began to cough. Remus, though surprised, immediately
began to pat him on the back firmly. Harry handed him his Butterbeer and
watched as Sirius drunk from it gratefully. “Excuse me?” Sirius asked hoarsely.
“Mother, you can’t possibly be serious,” Draco protested angrily, his eyes
narrowed.
“I need you to take Draco for the summer,” Narcissa repeated, ignoring her son
for the time being. “There are some…unsavory characters that need to be dealt
with.”
Sirius cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “You know I have Harry for the summer.
They’ll rip each other apart,” he pointed out.
Harry frowned in annoyance; he hated when he was talked about like he weren’t
there. “Glad to see how highly you think of me,” he muttered into his mashed
potatoes.
Sirius immediately turned to Harry. “You know what I meant,” he stated almost
pleadingly.
“As if there’s a reason to think highly of someone like you,” Draco sneered
lowly.
“Want to say that again, ferret face?” Harry growled, glaring at the blond.
“Well, scar fa—”
“Draco,” Narcissa said sharply. “Hold your tongue. They do not need to meet us,
and your deplorable behavior isn’t helping me in the slightest!”
Draco flushed at his mother’s admonishment, embarrassed to be scolded in front
of his rival. “Why can’t I stay at the manor?” he asked, though it came out as
if he were whining.
“I will not have you punished for your father’s or my own mistakes!” Narcissa
hissed harshly. “You are almost fifteen years old; start acting like it!”
Draco stared at his mother in shock; she’d never spoken to him like that.
Mutely, he nodded his head and began to play with his food.
Harry stared at Narcissa, suddenly realizing that though she was a Pureblood
and a Slytherin, she was also a mother ready to protect her young no matter the
consequences. It felt like a frog jumped into his throat and got stuck. His own
mother had been like that; the fact that he was alive proved it. Mothers were
willing to do anything for their children, even bad ones like Aunt Petunia.
Even good ones like Molly Weasley, or even Cedric’s mum.
He bowed his head, turning his gaze to his food as he blinked away tears. When
he composed himself, he looked up and realized that he had the attention of
everyone at the table bar Draco. Sirius looked hesitant, and Harry could
understand why. On the one hand, Draco was still technically family despite how
horrible a thought that was and Narcissa was basically swallowing her pride and
pleading with him to take in her son. On the other hand, Harry was with him for
the summer and absolutely loathed Draco.
He couldn’t put Sirius in such a difficult decision.
Harry knew he was going to regret it, but he leaned over and whispered in
Sirius’ ear, “Do it now or forever wish you had.”
That seemed to be what Sirius needed to hear. He turned to Narcissa. “Alright,”
he said softly. “He can stay with us.”
Narcissa let out a small smile as relief washed over her. She looked at Harry
and said sincerely, “Thank you.”
Uncomfortable, Harry nodded his head and excused himself, heading towards the
bathroom. On his way out, he met Draco’s eyes and swallowed thickly at the
loathing, desperation, disgust, and helplessness he saw there.
Yeah, he was going to regret agreeing to this.
***** Chapter 5 Support *****
Chapter 5 – Support

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside
                              us while we live.”
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
“I’m sorry you have to spend your summer with Malfoy, Harry.”
Harry glanced at Sirius before directing his attention back to his ice cream.
In all honesty, he was sorry too. A part of him would prefer spending quality
time with Dudley than Malfoy, but he wouldn’t give up Sirius for the world.
Though only a week had passed, Harry was enjoying himself more than he’d ever
had. True, he mostly spent his time locked in his room, plagued by the horrors
he’d witnessed the end of last year, but Sirius’ personality made it so easy
for him to relax and forget about Voldemort, Cedric, and the rest of the
world’s expectations.
“It’s alright,” he fibbed, licking his treat.
Sirius snorted. “I know I wasn’t the most studious of students, but please
don’t insult my intelligence by lying,” he admonished gently. “Your rivalry
with my brat of a cousin was as bad, if not worse, than mine with Snape. I know
I’d be furious if I had to spend a summer with that greasy git; I can only
imagine how mad you are.”
“Sirius, if it was that big of a deal, I would’ve said something,” Harry said,
wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re too selfless to do
something like that, just like your mum.” The ex-convict chuckled and his eyes
took on a far-away look.
Harry smiled slightly at that. “Can you tell me about her? Everybody’s so
caught up in telling me how much I look like my dad, but nobody ever mentions
mum. Well, except when they tell me that I have her eyes.”
Remus and Sirius shared a look. “Come on,” Sirius said. “We’ll tell you all
about her at home. In fact, I’m fairly certain I still have photos of our days
at Hogwarts.”
Harry beamed, feeling truly ecstatic for the first time in weeks. He would
finally learn things about his mum and maybe even feel a little closer to her.
Thoughts of Voldemort and Cedric’s demise exited his brain and he didn’t mind
the distraction one bit. Harry practically dragged Sirius and Remus out of
Diagon Alley, much to the amusement of the pair. He wondered what his mum was
like and if he took after her in any way.
The trio made their way to Sirius’ room in silence. Sirius and Remus were
reminiscing of their Hogwarts days, remembering how truly wonderful their
friends had been when they were alive. They still felt guilty for not
recognizing that Peter had been the traitor and that Harry had ultimately paid
the price for their actions. Remus may have lost his friends and Sirius may
have lost his freedom, but Harry lost his parents, anyone who would have been
more than happy to take him in, and was condemned to Hell. Harry grew up not
knowing anything about the world he belonged to or about the incredible people
that were responsible for his existence.
Sirius frowned, still very angry with Harry’s placement in an unsuitable home.
It was like he’d failed Harry; like Dumbledore failed Harry. His frown
deepened. During his time in Azkaban, he knew he’d been more than foolish at
blindingly trusting that old coot. Albus Dumbledore had the best intentions at
times, but not for any one person. His intentions were normally directed in
that of the greater good and, obviously, that’s caused more damage than he’d
been able to fathom. He still trusted the old man, but now he was more alert.
He wouldn’t ever put his complete faith in anyone when it came to the
protection and well-being of Harry ever again.
“Lily was Head Girl at Hogwarts,” Remus said softly.
Sirius blinked and realized Remus had fished the old album out by himself,
tired of waiting for Sirius to snap out of his reverie. Harry looked at the
pictures in awe, smiling softly. The young Gryffindor’s fingers traced over his
mum’s picture delicately, his smile widening when Lily beamed at him.
“Brightest witch in the history of witches, that one,” Sirius said ruefully.
“Should’ve been in Ravenclaw, much like your Hermione. I get the feeling,
though, that she would’ve fit in with any House.”
Harry looked at Sirius. “Any?”
Sirius nodded sagely. “If it weren’t for her Muggleborn status, she would’ve
made a good Slytherin,” he admitted, a slight grimace on his face. “She was
very ambitious and had planned to help lessen the prejudices in the Wizarding
world. Not to mention Snape was her best friend.”
Harry gasped lowly and his eyes widened. “Snape? Professor Snape? Greasy hair,
crooked nose, likes to snack on children’s dreams? We’re talking about the same
Snape?”
Remus chuckled lightly. “They were inseparable until their fifth year, I
believe. Professor Snape also grew up around a home life similar to your own,
Harry,” he said gently, noting with sadness that Harry winced. “Lily was his
friend before Hogwarts and remained as such until a point in time where he’d
been…taken…with Voldemort’s ideas.”
“So…he was best friends with mum?” Harry couldn’t seem to wrap his head around
that little tidbit.
“I have never nor will I ever like the git, but he was absolutely smitten with
your mother,” Sirius confessed. “She always stood up for him against whoever
was wronging him. Now that I think about it, though you look like your father,
you are almost exactly like your mother.”
Harry smiled. “Tell me more?”
Sirius and Remus returned his smile before indulging him, telling him grand
tales (that he was sure Sirius may have exaggerated) about his mother saving
Sirius from a Potions explosion when practicing for the O.W.L. practical or how
his mother, when she found out Remus was a werewolf, immediately advocated for
the better treatment of werewolves.
“So I was pushed quite viciously into the water and was quickly brought under
by the waves. Just as I was about to drown, this angel with beautiful red hair
swam into the Black Lake and pulled me to the surface. It was a miracle,”
Sirius concluded proudly, nodding his head firmly as if to confirm the latest
exaggeration.
Harry snorted, glancing at the picture of Sirius and his mum looking like
surprised drowned mice.
“Actually, he tripped, hit his head on a rock, and the Giant Squid decided to
pull him under the water. Your mother dove in after him and after some nifty
spellwork, they were both on land and safe,” Remus corrected, chuckling.
Sirius blushed, embarrassed. “I was viciously shoved,” he denied. “You know
Snape’s fondness of repelling any decent human being within ten feet of him. I
know he was behind me.”
“He was only fond of that charm because you seem to enjoy intruding in
everyone’s personal bubble,” Remus pointed out. “If I wasn’t your friend, I’d
have repelled you ages ago.”
“Moony!” Sirius whined, hugging Remus’ arm to himself. “You don’t mean that!
Take it back this instant.”
Remus gave a laughing Harry a dry look that seemed to say, ‘And I rest my
case.’
“You know,” Harry said softly, taking in deep breaths, “I didn’t really get to
know my parents, but I’m glad I at least have you guys.”
Sirius smiled, thwacking Remus on the arm for embarrassing him in front of
Harry again, and moved closer to his godson. “You do know you have us, right?”
he asked seriously, swallowing slightly at Harry’s somewhat confused and
alarmed expression.
“What do you mean?” the Gryffindor asked suspiciously.
Sirius sighed softly. “I mean, you know you can tell us anything, right?”
Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. “Yes,” he replied slowly. “Why?”
Remus took over. “We…we know you’ve been having nightmares,” he admitted,
watching sadly as Harry jerked away.
“It’s nothing,” Harry replied, nervous laughter bubbling out of him. “Just some
bad dreams.”
“Harry, please,” Sirius pleaded. “You’re my godson and I’m worried about you.
Please, let me—us—help you.”
“I don’t need any help,” Harry denied, standing up. He made his way towards the
door.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Remus said softly.
Harry paused. He bowed his head and tried to reign in his emotions. Why
couldn’t they just leave it alone? Everything had been fine before they brought
it up. “Yes it is,” he said just as softly.
“Did you kill him?” Remus asked simply.
Harry spun around and glared, his eyes filling up with tears. “I might as well
have,” he choked out. “You don’t understand, Remus. If I hadn’t told Cedric to
grab that stupid cup with me, he’d still be here. It is my fault!”
“Harry, you couldn’t have known—” Sirius began.
“Yes, I did,” Harry interrupted angrily. “I had those weird dreams all year. I
kept seeing Voldemort and Wormtail and that stupid graveyard! I saw it! There’s
so many things I could’ve done differently, each action ending with Cedric
still being alive!”
Sirius looked at Harry sadly. “Voldemort and Wormtail are the ones responsible
for Diggory’s death, Harry,” he said gently. “You had nothing to do with it.”
Harry sniffled and wiped away the tears streaming down his face. “If I had just
taken that stupid cup when he told me to…” he whispered bitterly. “But no. I
had to be the caring, selfless Gryffindor. I was so damn stupid.”
Sirius stood up and hugged Harry fiercely. “It’s a tragedy that Diggory died,
yes,” he whispered strongly as his eyes misted over. “But for you to blame
yourself and self-destruct because of something you had no control over is past
tragic, Harry. To die with Diggory would be an insult to his memory.”
Harry shook slightly. “I’m not going to die,” he murmured.
“Aren’t you?” Sirius countered. “If you hardly eat or sleep, what do you think
will happen eventually? You’re not taking care of yourself, and, honestly, it’s
perfectly natural considering what you’ve been through. But, don’t hide
yourself in regret; let us help you. We can help you get through this, Harry.
Please let us. Please.”
Harry let out a sob and hugged Sirius back, crying hard into his godfather’s
shoulder. He was so confused with all his emotions jumbled together. Guilt and
anger stabbed at him the hardest and he cried it all out, slightly embarrassed
by his actions. Remus watched sadly, letting Sirius and Harry have their
moment.
When Harry calmed down, his eyes were red and puffy. His throat also hurt and
he accepted the water Sirius asked the house elf to bring.
“We’ve found a way to help get rid of your nightmares,” Remus said softly.
“Sirius?”
Sirius cleared his throat gently and walked to the desk in his room where the
dreamcatcher sat innocently. “Do you know what this is?” he asked Harry.
Harry looked at it and nodded. “A dreamcatcher. Muggles use them,” he croaked,
drinking more of the water.
“Well, this is a family artifact and definitely works better than any Muggle
dreamcatcher,” Sirius assured. “Here. Try using this when you sleep tonight.”
Harry eyed it warily but took the beautiful dreamcatcher. An image of a large,
russet wolf appeared in his mind and he shook his head. “I’ll try it,” he
promised quietly.
“Good. Now, we have to prepare for the Malfoy brat’s arrival,” Sirius reminded
them, glancing at the clock.
Harry snorted. “I’ll go put this in my room, then.”
Sirius watched as Harry stood up to leave. “Harry?”
Harry paused and turned around. “Yes?”
“If you want to talk about anything, you can come to me or Moony,” he said
gently.
Harry gave him a small smile. “I know. Thanks.”
Remus waited until Harry left before opening his arms, not having to wait long
before Sirius was in them, crying softly and grumbling about the unfairness of
it all. Remus let him.
A/N: Find the Lady Gaga quote. ;)
***** Chapter 6 The First Dream *****
Chapter 6 – The First Dream

        “Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.”
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
Harry was not anticipating the arrival of Draco Malfoy. From his previous
encounters with the snobbish, stuck-up Slytherin, there was much to be desired
concerning the blond’s personality and it made his inevitable future presence
in Number 12 Grimmauld Place feel like Harry was walking off to the gallows.
And, yeah, he was acting a bit melodramatic, but this was Malfoy!
Still, he knew how important family was to Sirius, even if admitting that
Malfoy was family made one prefer to swallow Bleach and convulse to oblivion,
and he couldn’t get Narcissa’s voice out of his head, pleading for her cousin
to take her son, to protect her child. She was too proud to flat out beg and
show her desperation, but Harry had already seen it in her eyes. Those grey
orbs spoke louder than her words had.
There was a ding at the fireplace and Harry flinched. The stupid git was early.
The black-haired boy sighed before walking towards the living room. Malfoy
stood there stiffly, his eyes containing disbelief, anger, and…fear? It
wouldn’t shock Harry; Malfoy was to spend an unforeseeable amount of time with
his enemy and two other men who weren’t quite on his side. Being outnumbered
wouldn’t necessarily be anyone’s cup of tea unless of course they were Mad Eye
Moody and chuckled at the chance to show their constant vigilance, and Harry
really didn’t know how his mind wandered so. Narcissa stood regally behind him,
her expression unreadable.
“Thank you, Sirius,” she said quietly.
Sirius nodded his head awkwardly. “Is this for the entire summer?”
Uncertainty flashed in Narcissa’s eyes briefly. “I will Floo you when
our…situation…gets better.”
Sirius grimaced. In other words, she had no clue. Malfoy seemed a little
embarrassed by his mother’s words. “Right, well, he is a Black,” Sirius said
quietly.
“If things don’t change before the school year, Draco has his money pouch to
buy his supplies. We certainly don’t expect you to buy him anything when we
have money. It’s connected to a separate vault Lucius set up. He may use it as
often as he likes with the stipulation that he doesn’t exceed fifteen hundred
Galleons for the length of time he’s here. Draco, of course, is already well
aware of this, but I feel you should be made aware,” Narcissa said as if it
pained her.
Harry was surprised to see Malfoy flinch at the mention of his father’s name.
Trouble in paradise?
Sirius nodded his head. When Narcissa glanced at Harry and Draco before giving
him a pointed look, he said, “Harry, could you show Mal—um, Draco—his room?
Kreacher is at Hogwarts.”
Harry bit his lip before muttering, “Alright. C’mon, Malfoy.”
Malfoy looked briefly frightened. His mother bent slightly to whisper in his
ear, most likely her goodbyes before the adults disappeared into the kitchen,
and he jutted his chin out. “Have the House Elf bring my things up later,” he
said arrogantly.
Harry snorted. “The House Elf won’t be back until the end of the week,” he
replied. He didn’t actually know if it was true, but Malfoy’s tone severely
annoyed him, and he tried to channel that annoyance in any other way than
grabbing the nearest club and whacking the prat in his pointy nose like he’d
wanted. “So, unless you want your essentials to stay down here…” he trailed off
unnecessarily.
Malfoy rolled his eyes before he pulled out his wand. “Fine,” he hissed under
his breath.
Harry’s eyes widened. “What the bloody Hell do you think you’re doing?”
Malfoy startled. “I knew you were a dimwit, Potter, but surely even you can
tell I’m going to levitate my trunk up the stairs,” he sneered.
Harry’s nostrils flared. “There are wards here preventing underage magic.
Considering the fact that there are only two underage wizards on the property,
should the authorities come here to see just who the Hell cast any spells, they
would come to the conclusion that the magic certainly didn’t come from my wand.
Now, I know you’re a blond, but surely even you can put two and two together?”
he sneered back, enjoying the flush of rage that overcame Malfoy’s face.
“Then how do you expect my trunk to get upstairs?” Malfoy grit out.
“You have two functional arms and a heartbeat, yes?” Harry rolled his eyes.
“Carry it, you bloody ponce!”
Malfoy looked terrified. “I—I can’t carry this!” he sputtered, undignified.
“That’s so—so plebian!”
Harry scoffed. “That’s fine, you can leave it here for all I care,” he said
indifferently, shrugging his shoulders.
Malfoy clenched his fists and Harry was somewhat surprised the snobby Slytherin
didn’t stomp his foot in frustration. Then again, Malfoy had a reputation to
uphold (not that it mattered to Harry) and though he could throw his fits, he
still had to maintain some level of decorum, and Malfoys just didn’t stomp
their feet.
“I will not manually pick up my trunk like some Weasley!” he hissed
disdainfully.
All traces of mirth at Malfoy’s expense vanished and a dark scowl overtook
Harry’s face. He ignored Malfoy’s look of triumph at his change in expressions.
“Well, at least we know should there ever be an incident without magic, they’d
be able to do something. You’re rather useless, aren’t you?”
Malfoy glared furiously at him. “Don’t talk to your betters like that, Potter,”
he said tightly.
“Considering the fact that I see no betters in the room with me, I’m more than
positive I can talk any damn way I please,” Harry retorted, his jaw clenched.
Steam practically billowed out of Malfoy’s ears. “You filthy Half-Blood!” he
hissed angrily.
Harry couldn’t help it—he laughed. He laughed hard and clutched at his sides,
missing Malfoy’s shocked look and the way the blond tried to shuffle away from
the very obviously mentally deranged Golden Boy. It amused Harry to no end how
Malfoy fought so hard for blood purity, and yet his master was a Half-Blood
himself. The irony tickled him to no end. “I can’t wait to see the look on your
face when you find out,” he said, stray chuckles escaping him. “I wonder,
though, would you practice what you preach or would you turn the other cheek?”
If Malfoy was having a bitch fit because of carrying his trunk by hand, he’d
probably keel over when he finds out that the man his family threw themselves
at was nothing more than the filth they wanted to save the world from.
Harry would pay good money for front row seats to say how it all panned out.
“Find out what?” Malfoy asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at the bane of
his existence.
Harry smirked, happy to hold something over the blond’s head. If he had to put
up with the idiot for the entire summer, the very least he could do was pay him
back for the years the Slytherin had spent making his life at Hogwarts
miserable. What way to do that would be better than irritating the crap out of
him?
“Oh, nothing,” Harry said breezily, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly again.
Malfoy scowled. “Diggory’s death knocked something loose, didn’t it?” he asked
snidely, smirking when Harry froze.
Harry stared at the blond as the words processed in his head. For a brief
moment, he’d actually forgotten about…he’d forgotten… Without another word,
Harry spun around and walked upstairs. He ignored Malfoy calling him and
slammed the door to his room shut. His head was pounding something fierce and
everything was getting hot. He was finding it a little more difficult to
breathe, and Harry clutched at his chest. His eyes widened as his breath came
in short pants, and tears welled up in his eyes. They spilled over, leaving a
trail of coolness down his cheeks.
He squeezed his eyes tightly only to snap them open again when all he could see
was that awful green light hitting Cedric square in the chest. The Hufflepuff
never stood a chance, really. Those brown eyes would forever remain open, and
Harry let out a sob when Cedric’s final request echoed in his head.
“Take my body back, will you? Please, take it back to my parents…”
He could remember everything about that night. He remembered coercing Cedric,
forcing him, to take the cup with Harry. He remembered the jerk at his navel
and the surprise he felt when they’d realized the cup was a portkey. He
remembered the horror that overtook him when he recognized that awful graveyard
in what he later discovered was Little Hangleton.
Harry remembered everything. The Gryffindor hugged himself tightly, the hot
tears still travelling down his face. He especially remembered that, had it not
been for him, Cedric would still be alive.
Harry didn’t know how long he’d stayed there, crumpled on the floor and sobbing
like a child. It felt like hours, but since Sirius hadn’t barged into his room
frantically, Harry safely assumed his sense of time was crap. Standing on shaky
legs, he trudged to his bed and collapsed on it. He was mentally and
emotionally exhausted, and before he knew it, his eyes began to close of their
own accord. The last thing he remembered seeing was the beautiful dreamcatcher
Sirius had given him taped to the wall, glinting suspiciously at him with a
strange golden aura.
He was in the graveyard again. Voldemort’s lipless mouth twisted in an
unpleasant snarl and he hissed the curse at him. Once more, that awful green
light was aimed and travelling in his direction. Harry didn’t even really need
to think about it. The spell tumbled out of his mouth faster than his brain
could keep up with. It didn’t matter that nothing could stop the Killing Curse;
he’d just needed to divert the path somehow. That was all he was trying to do.
A dome of magic encompassed them again, and Harry watched fearfully as the
silvery mists of recent deaths came out of his enemy’s wand. One by one, until
finally his parents appeared, the mists took their places on either side of him
and Voldemort. His throat tightened and his heart turned cold.
Cedric’s face contorted in pain as he stared at Harry with such hurt and loss
that the younger boy choked. “Why didn’t you help me?” he asked Harry, eyes
wide and desperate.
Harry whimpered. “I tried,” he protested, flinching away from the hostile and
accusatory stance Cedric then adopted.
“You tried?” the Hufflepuff hissed. “You got me killed!”
Harry’s attempts of denial went unheard, and eventually the mists retreated
back into Voldemort’s wand, deeming him unworthy of their help. He cried at his
parents’ disappointed expressions, mentally begging them to understand that
he’d done his best, that he was only a boy, that he wasn’t prepared to face the
monster that’d murdered them.
Voldemort’s cruel chuckled resounded throughout the empty space as the magic
between them seemed to fizzle into nothingness. “Sad, isn’t it? No matter how
much effort you put into something, it isn’t enough.”
Harry shook his head and ignored him. “You’re dead,” he whispered into the
night. “I killed you—you’re dead.”
Harry flinched as Voldemort let out a sharp bark of laughter. “You kill me?”
Voldemort drawled, his tone amused. “I’m the greatest Dark Lord this world has
ever seen. How can you, a mere boy, kill me?”
“I killed you,” Harry repeated, glaring at Voldemort.
“I’m immortal, boy,” Voldemort sneered. “You can never kill me. I will always
come back, Harry Potter. Always, and you will perish by my power. Mark my
words, boy. I will return, and you will not live to see the end of this war.”
Harry’s eyes widened, his scar burning fiercely as he shook his head in horror.
Voldemort raised his wand again, the damned curse at the tip of his tongue as
the end of his wand glowed ominously green. Harry’s heart stopped, and he
watched in slow motion. Before the curse could be complete, however, something
unusual occurred.
Voldemort let out a scream as a large, russet wolf tore into the Dark Lord, its
large teeth gleaming ominously as they sunk into the vile flesh over and over.
Harry watched the carnage in shock, black liquid seeping out of Voldemort’s
wounds before he melted into a puddle and was no more.
He gasped as the wolf turned its gaze to him, dark brown eyes shining with a
fierce protectiveness that took his breath away. The wolf softly padded towards
him, and despite seeing it viciously attack the Dark Lord mere moments ago,
Harry stood perfectly still and oddly unafraid. When the wolf was right before
him, it pressed its wet nose to his forehead and Harry felt like he was flying.
Looking around, Harry gaped as they were suddenly on a beach. The waves crashed
against the shore and the cliffs. Harry wiggled his toes in the wet sand,
enjoying the somewhat odd experience. He glanced at his feet before he looked
back at the wolf. His eyes gave away his confusion, and the wolf let out an
amused sounding bark before it glowed a strange golden light, much like the
dreamcatcher had before, and in its place stood a man. A very naked man.
He was much taller than Harry, standing easily at around seven feet tall. His
skin was a beautiful golden tan that apparently reached everywhere, making
Harry wonder briefly if he basked in the sun wearing nothing but his birthday
suit. His eyes were kind and deep brown, his shoulders square, and his jaw
prominent. The man was muscular and his features were well-defined. He was
rather good looking, Harry noted with surprise. Never before had he appreciated
the male form before and, embarrassingly enough, Harry especially appreciated
that the man’s well-proportioned body made him rather large everywhere.
Harry squeaked and his face erupted in a fiery blush as the man let out a deep
laugh and reached down to grab shorts made of animal skin that was tied around
his ankle. He was also surprised to note that he felt oddly disappointed when
the man became more decent, but he rather viciously shoved that emotion away.
He wasn’t a pervert, for heaven’s sake.
Harry blinked in surprise as the man walked towards him and carried him gently.
“Sleep,” the man said softly. “I’ll protect you.”
Harry yawned tiredly, surprised that his body relaxed completely until he was
bonelessly resting on the man’s lovely sculpted chest. He didn’t notice he was
so tired, really. “Thank you,” he whispered before he closed his eyes.
He was lulled into sleep when the man sang softly in another language under his
breath, no longer plagued with the every-heavy presence of guilt.
It was the first peaceful sleep he’d had in a while.
***** Chapter 7 Thoughts and Rules *****
Chapter 7 – Thoughts and Rules

            “If you think you’re free, there’s no escape possible.”
                                /Jacob/\Harry\
Harry woke slowly, slightly disoriented but overall feeling better than ever.
It was slightly confusing until the memories of his dream came rushing back to
him, and Harry shot up in his bed gasping. He glanced at the dreamcatcher with
amazement. It had worked. He’d only taken it to humor Sirius originally, but
the dreamcatcher actually worked! Harry snuggled back down into his bed with a
small, relieved smile.
The nightmares were becoming too much. He hadn’t wanted anybody to know he was
constantly having them, but Sirius had somehow found out anyways. It wasn’t
like Harry hadn’t wanted to seem weak or anything—no, that wasn’t the excuse
where his need for secrecy had stemmed from. Rather, he didn’t want to burden
anyone with problems caused by his inability to save a fellow classmate.
Harry didn’t know of any potions or remedies for the terrible nightmares that
constantly plagued him, but he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. The
dreamcatcher actually worked. His thoughts immediately focused on the
incredibly well-toned stranger that had held him and fought the Voldemort in
his dream. A blush rushed to his face as he recalled his reaction to the
stranger’s protectiveness.
Ever since he came into the Wizarding world, Harry had had to fight for his
life. Third year was his only reprieve, and that didn’t even fully count since,
although he wasn’t in any true danger from Sirius, he had still believed a
madman was after his blood. Not to mention the fact that Professor Lupin had
forgotten to take the Wolfsbane potion and actually had tried to kill him.
Granted, he wasn’t in the correct state of mind, but that didn’t necessarily
excuse Remus neglecting to take care of his condition.
Still, the fact remained that he always had to fight. Like Ron had told him
first year, “Harry, it’s you that has to go on. Not me, not Hermione; you.”
Never before had he been able to step back and let someone else take over for a
while. He had to save the philosopher’s stone, he had to save Ginny Weasley
from the Chamber of Secrets, he had to protect himself from an Azkaban escapee
(and a werewolf), and he had to unwillingly participate in the Tri-Wizard
Tournament or lose his magic.
For some strange man in his dreams to actually defeat his nightmares and
protect him…Harry blushed again. It felt nice to step back and let someone else
take control, if only for a little while. And the way the man had held Harry
made him feel safe, loved.
Harry shook his head. He hadn’t thought he was anything but straight, and the
crush on Cho Chang last year had emphasized that, but Harry really hadn’t
entertained the idea of being with a man. Despite that, the man that had held
him in his dreams awoke something inside of Harry. He found he didn’t mind
feeling attracted and drawn to the strange man as opposed to his peers who
probably would’ve freaked out. That might have been because the man was in his
dreams and, therefore, not real, but still. The realization that your sexuality
might be different than you’d thought would warrant screams, denial, and
probably self-loathing.
Well, Harry already loathed himself enough for Cedric’s death. He certainly
didn’t care about whether or not he was gay. Harry had bigger things to worry
about—like whether or not dream Voldemort had been right. Was Voldemort truly
gone, or was it just like that night almost fourteen years ago? Could someone
truly achieve immortality?
A part of him wanted to disregard everything Voldemort had said. It was
obviously his guilt making him paranoid. He’d seen and heard Voldemort dying,
smelt the ash his body had become. The Dark Lord had died. Period.
…but what if he was immortal?
Harry frowned, clutching the sheets under him nervously. What if Voldemort came
back? He didn’t want to have to fight all over again. His eyes narrowed
slightly as he recalled the strange man in his dream having been a wolf and
devouring the sneering Dark Lord. He remembered the black liquid that had
seeped out of the bite marks adoring Voldemort’s body, and he especially
remembered the black liquid that had leaked out of Tom Riddle’s diary in the
Chamber of Secrets.
Harry shook his head to clear it. He didn’t want to think about anything.
Standing up, he stretched and smiled in satisfaction when his back popped
slightly. He didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping, but he felt completely
relaxed. With a small yawn, Harry made his way out of his room and to the
bathroom. The house was quiet, which wasn’t completely unusual. However,
Malfoy, the stupid prick, was still in the house and Harry had expected the boy
to still be having his little bitch fit.
Turning on the light in the bathroom, Harry glanced at his reflection and
gaped. Black liquid was smudged where his scar resided, and Harry shakily
reached up to touch it. He brought it to his nose and sniffed hesitantly. It
had a coppery scent, almost like blood, but it was blacker than Snape’s
wardrobe. Harry bit his lip and washed it off. His hands shook slightly as
confusion seeped into his mind and overtook his senses.
What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?
Harry stared at his horrified green eyes in the mirror. There was still black
liquid on his forehead, and he almost angrily scrubbed it off. His heart
pounded furiously and he couldn’t even understand why his eyes began to tear
up, but he furiously dried his face with the hand towel on the rack. Voldemort
was dead.
…but that black liquid…
Harry took a deep breath to calm his frazzled nerves and let it out slowly. In,
out, in, out. His breathing evened, and Harry let out a small smile. He just
wasn’t going to deal with the mystery of the Voldemort-that-was-in-his-head,
nor was he going to ponder over the protective and oh-so-attractive man that
appeared in his dream.
No, Harry was going to step out of the bathroom with a shit-eating grin and he
wasn’t going to think about anything else other than getting through a day with
Malfoy in the vicinity. For some reason, Grimmauld Place didn’t seem nearly big
enough for the both of them.
A soft knock on the door had Harry blinking into reality. He hung the hand
towel back on the rack and glanced at his reflection one more time. The black
liquid was, thankfully, removed completely from his face. His eyes were a
little too puffy to be considered normal and he scowled; it was obvious he’d
been crying, and he did not want anyone to know. The knocking on the door
became somewhat insistent and Harry cursed, knowing there was no time to call
Dobby and ask the loyal elf to weave another glamour over him.
With a soft sigh, Harry opened the door and stared into somewhat panicky grey
eyes.
Sirius mentally cursed as he took in Harry’s features and he scowled. “Are you
okay?” he asked gently, almost hesitant that Harry would recoil and shut down
even further.
Harry gave a jerky nod. “Fine,” he said somewhat tightly.
Sirius snorted. “We talked about insulting my intelligence,” the ex-convict
chided gently. “Besides, Malfoy squealed it out as soon as we returned to the
living room and, to our surprise, he was still there looking guiltier than when
he’d broken my aunt’s—that’d be his grandmother’s—very expensive vase.”
Harry shook his head. That was Malfoy, alright. He could talk and act big, but
when it all boiled down, the only thing the blond really had going for him was
his father’s money and the prestige of the Malfoy name. Considering the fact
that he was surrounded predominantly by what he’d consider enemies, it wasn’t
too shocking to hear that the coward spilled his guts in an attempt to lessen
any punishment on himself.
“I’m fine,” Harry repeated. “I actually had a nice nap.”
Sirius perked up. “No nightmares?”
Harry smiled a little, his earlier excitement at that returning somewhat.
“None,” he said, his tone brightening. “I haven’t slept that peaceful in…well,
I can’t ever remember sleeping like that.”
Sirius beamed. “That’s fantastic,” the older man exclaimed. “Now, thank
goodness you’re awake because it’s dinnertime and we all need to have a lovely
discussion down stairs.”
Harry didn’t quite like that regretful glint in his godfather’s eye. “What kind
of discussion?” he asked suspiciously, his feet automatically leading him
towards the kitchen.
Remus and Malfoy were already seated at the table. Malfoy’s face was scrunched
up as if something foul were in the air, and he tried his hardest to keep his
distance from the kind werewolf. Remus smiled pleasantly at Harry, an amusedly
smug and somewhat hurt air about him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out
why. Malfoys were old and Pure, as they liked to boast, and of course they
believed that werewolves were scum and all that hogwash that everyone liked to
spread. Though it may be somewhat amusing that the little idiot thought being
in the same area as a werewolf would somehow contaminate him, Harry knew how
much it hurt to not be accepted.
He’d suffered the same thing every time he was at the Dursley’s. Dudley, once
he’d gotten over his catch-the-freak-and-beat-the-unnaturalness-out-of-him
stage, had tried very hard to keep as much distance as he could between himself
and his freaky cousin. Harry’s immediate reaction had been amusement, and he
tried his damndest to always be at least four feet within Dudley’s comfort zone
just to see his idiot cousin squirm unpleasantly. He stopped, however, when he
saw the utter revulsion and disgust shining in Dudley’s eyes.
Because rejection hurts, no matter who it’s from.
Harry took a seat next to Remus and across from Sirius. He would have felt bad
for Malfoy having to sit somewhat away from them if it weren’t for two reasons.
One, Malfoy chose to alienate himself. Two, Sirius quickly fixed that problem
with a snap of his fingers. Kreacher appeared, a scowl on his face and
grumbling about forcing the lovely, Pure Malfoy to sit next to dirty filth.
Malfoy’s scowl deepened as he was forced to sit next to Sirius and he eyed the
food with distaste. His grey eyes snapped towards Harry after a moment and bore
holes into his forehead. “You said the elf wouldn’t be back until the end of
the week, Potter,” Malfoy grit out angrily.
Harry’s lips curled upward in a small smirk. “And you believed me? That seems
rather Gryffindor for you, Malfoy,” Harry replied pleasantly, taking a sip of
his pumpkin juice with ease.
Malfoy’s pale face flushed lightly with anger. “Stupid—”
“Enough,” Sirius cut in, stopping the fight before the insults could fly. “That
is enough.”
“From both of you,” Remus chided in gently. “You two will have to live together
for an unforeseeable amount this summer. We’re certainly not asking the two of
you to become friends, however, whilst you are under this roof, there needs to
be some sort of temporary truce.”
Harry glanced at his food, feeling a little guilty for having sunk to Malfoy’s
level.
Sirius pursed his lips. “It will obviously be difficult, given your
rather…exciting…past history.”
Malfoy snorted at what was perhaps the biggest understatement of the century,
but quickly hid behind a mask of indifference at Sirius’ stern look.
“Anyways,” Remus coughed, drawing the attention back to him. “To try to make
this summer run as smoothly as possible, we’ve decided to come up with
some…rules.”
Sirius’ tiny pout told Harry that it was mostly Remus that came up with the
rules, but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“Rule one will be absolutely no fighting, verbal or physical,” Sirius said,
looking at the two teenage boys in his care. “There will be consequences to
both of you should you break this rule.”
“The consequences will be dependent on the severity of the fighting,” Remus
continued, easily slipping into teacher mode. “For example, if the fighting
doesn’t go beyond mere words, you’ll be dusting the library without magic.”
“What?” Malfoy yelped, his eyes widened. “I’m not some common Muggle, that I
cannot do anything without magic!”
Sirius cocked an eyebrow. “There are wards surrounding this property to prevent
the use of underage magic. If you wish to receive a letter and disappoint your
parents, by my guest and use your wand.”
Malfoy opened his mouth to retort angrily but stopped, slammed his mouth shut,
and glared furiously at the table.
“Rule two will require everyone’s attendance at all meals at all times,” Sirius
stressed, subtly glancing at Harry. “There will, of course, be some exceptions,
like you’re on your deathbed, or you’ve just undergone a tremendously painful
Muggle surgery, or your stomach vanished into the Netherlands.”
“Rule three will be to do your homework before the hols finish,” Remus said
sternly.
“It doesn’t have to be done right away,” Sirius amended quickly.
Remus glanced at Sirius dryly. “No, not right away,” he repeated. “But, again,
it must be done before you have to return to school.”
Harry nodded his head somewhat solemnly. The rules weren’t incredibly harsh or
ridiculous. He could follow through with them. Glancing at Malfoy, he inwardly
sneered. Malfoy would be another situation entirely.
The rest of the evening was spent in thick silence. Harry picked at his food
and ate a little, his mind still replaying what his dream-Voldemort said. He
didn’t want to believe it. Voldemort was dead for good; finally gone, and now
he could relax. Harry didn’t need to fight anymore.
…but what if Voldemort comes back?
HE WON’T! Harry mentally screamed. It was just paranoia and guilt trying to
convince him of something impossible. He knew Voldemort was gone, had been sick
to his stomach as dying screams escaped the snake-like man’s lipless mouth.
Nothing would bring him back. Nothing.
…just like nobody could survive the Killing Curse?
“Harry, are you alright?” Sirius asked worriedly.
Harry looked up. Remus and Sirius exchanged somewhat nervous looks, and Malfoy
glanced at him condescendingly with his eyebrow cocked. “Fine,” he choked out,
easing his grip on his fork. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it so
tightly. “Just a bit tired still, I guess.”
“You know you can tell us anything, right?” Sirius murmured quietly.
Harry stared into those grey eyes, so full of truth and want and compassion. He
wanted to tell him about his dream, about the black liquid that had seeped from
his scar, about the extremely handsome man-wolf in his dreams, about his
growing doubt concerning Voldemort’s demise.
He really wanted to…but Sirius already had enough to deal with.
“I know,” he replied, easily slipping his fake smile across his face.
Besides, they were just doubts.
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