Chapter 1- To Sleep, Perchance to Scream

                            

          Light poured through the window like it was trying to bang invisible fists at the person so rudely trying to ignore it.  There was a rustle of sheets and a mumble of curses as a pillow was thrown over the sleepers head, and another louder grumble as the bedding was thrown back and the occupant sat up straight, stretching and yawning loudly.  His tanned skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his black hair almost looked blue as the light danced over it.  His bangs hung messily over his forehead and into his eyes, covering the thin, lightning bolt shaped scar that in all his years hadn’t faded much.  It was a stark contrast against his skin, the light purple color just slightly raised, and only noticed by touch.  He rubbed it and his eyes before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled on the long boxers on the floor by his night stand. 

 

          “Mo’ning Hedwig.” he said, his voice still low with sleep, to the Snowy Owl that rested on her perch by the open balcony window. “anything good in the mail this mo’ning?”

 

          Walking over to his dresser he picked up a hair brush, ran it through his hands, and put it back.  He opened the large bottom drawer and pulled out an over-sized grey sweater, and pulled it on, slipping his feet in the pair of black slippers by the door as he walked out into the small hallway that lead to his living room, motioning for Hedwig to follow.  She rawrked in happy response as she followed, passing him, and landing on the back of the chair in the kitchen. 

 

          He scratched his head and yawned as he picked up the early mail, and walked to the refridgerator as he opened the Daily Prophet.  Holding the other mail behind it, he read the headlines with mock intrest as he absentmindedly poured himself a glass of orange juice, and while closing the fridge with one foot, took a sip.

 

          “Malfoy Manor contents up for auction.  All those wishing to attend are welcome.  July 31st, 1999.  Rumors say that the famous Malfoy Treasure will also be up for bid, including the Narcissa Diamond.”

 

          Hedwig screeched as the orange juice that her master had been sipping sprayed her as he started to choke on it.  The glass was quickly put on the counter, and he coughed it all up, but dropped the mail in the process.  Kneeling down to pick it up, he noticed a strange envelope.  Picking it up, a familiar twinge sparked in his scar, and he rubbed it gently.

 

          “Mr. Harry Potter

          No. 69 Crookshanks Lane

          London.”

 

          The penmanship was what had disturbed Harry as he turned it over… and he nearly ripped it in half as he noticed the silver wax owl on the back.  Quickly unfolding the letter, he read it eagerly.

 

          “Harry Potter!  Have you forgotten your friends completely!?  Anyway, I thought it time that we all get back together, as it is going to be your birthday soon… the big 20, how fun.  I suggest that we all meet for lunch, a day of shopping, and then hit a club.  Of course it would have to be a Muggle club, because the Wizarding world just isn’t up to speed with those kinds of entertainment.  I’ve already sent a letter similar to this to Ron and he says he’d kill you if you didn’t reply, so I would definitly think about writing me back.  And did you see that thing in the paper about the Malfoy Auction?  What a pity…  Hope to hear from you soon Harry!

 

          Love always,

          Hermione.”

 

          Harry smiled at her childish like letter, and folded it back up and set it in the drawer of his desk.  He pulled out a piece of paper and a quill, which he hadn’t used much since he graduated, and set to writing his letter.

 

          “Dear Hermione,

          I’m sorry I haven’t written you much; I forgot how attatched to me you are.  I’d be more than happy to join you and Ron for lunch and then go clubbing afterwords.  I think I know the perfect club… When do you propose we do this?  The Malfoy Auction is being held on my birthday, so yeah, I’ve heard, and I have to go to that.  Don’t ask why, I just do.  I’ll look into the auction and see what time it’s starting, and maybe we can work around that.  And I know you’ve talked to Ron, because he keeps calling me and saying that the two of you write back and forth to one another constantly.  Why the hell don’t you two just move in together?  You’ve been pining over him for years ‘Mione, and I think it about time you know he feels the same about- Oops!  Did I just say that?  Sorry Ron! * Wink *  I’ll write you in a few days, when I know what’s going on with the auction. 

         

          Love – Harry

 

          PS:  Why is it such a pity that the Malfoy’s Manor is up for auction?  They’re all dead.”

 

          Harry frowned at his last statement, and then shook his head clear.  He didn’t need to keep reminding himself that Malfoy was dead.  He should’ve been over it years ago.  With a sigh he shoved the letter into its envelope and put her name on it.  He sealed it with his red sealing wax, and pressed his griffin seal into it.  Hedwig cooed contentedly as she landed on the perch on the desk, and Harry tied the letter to her leg, and she nipped lovingly at his ear.  He smiled and stroked her feathers before taking her to the window.

 

          “Take it to Hermione, and bring her reply back ASAP, okay Hedwig?”

 

          The owl nodded and took off, leaving Harry to stare after her.  He felt a headache coming on, and noted that his scar was still tingling.  He pushed the thought of Voldermont out of his head and gathered his things for a shower.

 

~!*^*!~

 

          The air was crisp, and he breathed it in deeply before walking into the place he had once called ‘home.’   The massive front doors creaked as he opened it, and with a scowl on his face, he pointed his wand at the hinges.  The creaking stopped as he let the door close behind him.  The whole place was covered in cob webs and a thick layer of dust, and it disgusted him.  As he walked into what was once a clean and orderly study, he flicked his wrist back towards the main hall and all the rooms held within.  A streak of dark green light flew throughout the house, returning everything to its original beauty and form.  As the streak finished in the study, the man smirked, the closest he could have ever gotten to a smile. 

 

          “I’m HOME!!” he called, his voice echoing through the house.

 

~!*^*!~

 

          Harry walked out onto the Quidditch pitch, dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white “wife beater”, his old Firebolt in hand.  He had a pair of worn brown leather fingerless ‘biker’ gloves on, and a pair of dark sunglasses.  He watched as his teammates flew overhead, and smiled as they yelled down at him to hurry up and get on his broom, that the snitch was already in the air.  He straddled his broom and took off into the air, one hand holding the broomstick, the other reaching out to his side.  He moved his arm just in time to miss hitting a beater and bludger, and quickly reached back out, catching the snitch.  He made his way over to the goal circles and stopped by the Cannon’s Keeper.

 

          “What kept you?”

“I was doing a little research.  Anything wrong with that Wood?” retorted Harry playfully.

“Research?  You’re not in school any more Harry, what could you have been researching?”

“The Malfoy Auction, and the Narcissa Diamond.”

         

          Oliver Wood, one time keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, stared at him in mute disbelief.  He’d known that the auction was going to take place, but he had no idea that the Narcissa Diamond was going to be included.  And why would Harry Potter want to go to the auction, when he hated the Malfoy’s?  To him it didn’t make sense.

 

          “They’re putting the Narcissa Diamond up too?” he asked, trying to hide his shock.

“Yeah, and before you start wracking your brain for reasons why I of all people would be going, it’s out of respect.  There are probably things in that house that shouldn’t be allowed in public, or in the hands of the Ministry either.  That and I want to see for myself if the Narcissa Diamond is all it’s cracked up to be.”

 

          Without waiting for Wood to comment, Harry let the snitch go and flew off to the middle of the field, and sat indian style on his broom.  This wasn’t new, he often did this to let the snitch get a head start, but when both bludgers headed for him, they started to worry.  The beaters quickly chased after them, only to be thrown off their brooms.  The bludgers were still headed towards Harry, and Wood cried out for him to open his eyes, as he had started to meditate, or at least that’s what it looked like to the team.

 

          As the chaser watched, the quaffle flew out of their grasp, and headed for their Seeker.  Harry didn’t budge.  The bludgers and quaffle stopped before him and started to swirl around him, leaving only a trail of gold in their wake.  As they all watched, Harry’s scar started to glow gold, and a tunnel of wind blasted up from the ground, blowing his hair back, and in one burst of light, Harry fell off his broom, heading very fast for the ground below.  He was unconcius!  Wood sped off after him, as did the rest of the team, in hope of catching him before he hit, but it didn’t look like they were going to make it. 

 

          “HARRY!!” Wood shouted as the young Seeker’s eyes fluttered open. “Your broom!”

 

          Harry didn’t have time to react, he – he didn’t hit the ground!  Rather, he was caught just above the ground by some invisible force.  It slowly put him down, and as he looked around, silver-blue eyes flashed in his mind’s eye, and he passed out.

 

-Dream-

 

          He was surrounded by a thick, familiar mist, staring out into the Forbidden Forest.  As he saw himself run by, Harry knew where he was.  He was watching a memory as a stranger would have seen it happen.  He was watching himself run head on into the Forest, into the final battle against Voldermont.  If he could have shut his eyes, he would have, because it hurt too much to think about.  As he watched, Harry could feel his own scar burning, pulsing in pain, and heard himself telling his memory self to block.  Of course being a memory his words went unheard and unheaded as the blast of fire that hit his memory counterpart was partially deflected.

 

          “Voldermont!” young Harry shouted, “Show yourself, COWARD!!”
”Coward?   I think not young Potter!” hissed a serpent like voice as the snake faced Dark Lord showed himself.  “Do you consider yourself brave Harry?”

“I’m NOT afraid of you Voldermont!  You may have killed my parents, Ceddric and that Ministry woman, but you will not succeed in killing me, or anyone else!”
”Bold words for someone who’s going to die!!”

 

          Both Harry and Voldermont began a hard duel, and after close to an hour Harry was having a hard time standing without some sort of support.  Voldermont physically pushed him to the ground, and laughed.  He sounded as if his throat were raw and like a snake at the same time, and Harry’s blood ran cold as that evil laugh echoed through his head.  As Voldermont raised his wand, the Dark Mark appeared in the sky above them, and a bright green sphere of light formed at the tip of his wand.  As he brought it down, intending on hitting Harry, something extremely large landed in front of and over the gryffindor boy, the green light flowing around it.  The ear splitting scream of a Dragon filled the air as Harry noticed that the thing in front of him was a small dragon.

 

          It was about the size of a Clydesdale breed horse, black as night with a slight silver sheen, with a tail about 50 feet long, and a neck that arched much like a swans, but moved like a serpent.  As it brought its slender head down to glare with glowing blue eyes at Voldermont, Harry noted the wings protruding from just behind its withers.  They were almost as large as the dragon itself, and the membrane was slightly see through, and Harry could just make out the form of a man sitting on its back.  Voldermont took as step back as the dragon snapped at him with a growl.

 

          “YOU!!” he hissed as the rider dismounted, his black velvet cloak swishing in the dark, a spray of dark blue glittering light flying off the bottom.  “How DARE you betray ME!  I am-“

“You are pathetic!  You couldn’t just die, could you!?  You weren’t going to let a CHILD defeat you, when it was really his mother!  It was Potter’s parents love for him that saved him, and defeated you, and I’ll be damned if I let you kill him!” the cloaked man said in Parseltongue.

“I should’ve known… You LOVE him, don’t you!?” Voldermont screamed, his wand starting to gather the green light at the tip again.

“And so what if I do?!  Is it wrong to love your enemy?  Muggles say to ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.’  I may have been raised to take my father’s place, but I will NOT become one of your lackies!  I will NOT let the one man I love die by your hand Voldermont, so if you want him, you go through ME!!”

 

          Harry tried to see through the mist that was clouding his vision, and just barely saw the man pull his hood back, and the dragon rear back its head and roar, eyes ablaze with electric light.  Voldermont laughed as he and the man started to fight, and the dragon stood in front of the memory Harry.  He could see just enough to make out the bright flash of blue and green that made the earth quake, and heard his memory self scream…

 

-end Dream-

 

          “NOOOO!!!  MALFOY!!!”

 

          Harry bolted up in the infirmary bed, his body drenched in sweat and his scar throbbing.  His eyes were wide, the white clearly visible, and all he could see was that horrible flash, and then Malfoy’s black cloaked body falling back, the dark blue glitter that had swished off his cloak leaving his face like a trail of tears. 

 

          “Harry!  HARRY!”  Oliver shouted, shaking his friend as he rocked back and forth, head on his knees and tears streaming down his face. “Snap out of it man!”

“It’s all my fault… allmyfault allmyfault allmyfault allmyfault…” it became a mantra as Harry shuddered violently with the memory of craddling Malfoy’s limp body in his arms, staring into slowly dying eyes.  “No… no… no no no no no no no… NOOO!!  Stop it!  Just leave me alone!  WHY WON’T IT STOP!!?”

 

          Harry lashed out and pushed Oliver across the room, swiping his arms at the table by the bedside.  The lamp there crashed to the floor, shattering, and the windows and mirror in the room cracked, one by one blowing out.  The MediWizard that had been brought in to see Harry screamed and ran out, dragging Wood out of the room as Harry’s powers started to take out the walls.  The electric work started to spark, the wires in the walls flared, bolts of electricity flying in every which direction.  Harry held his head and screamed as his scar burned just like it had that night, and he fell to his knees in pain as the power he’d been supressing burst free in a bright flash of white.  The images slowly faded and he sobbed into his hands as he looked around the room.  It was totally destroyed.

 

          “Why?  Why can’t I just get over it!?” he demanded of himself.

<Because you were in love with him stupid!> he answered in his mind, and he laughed dryly at that. <Now I’m answering my own questions.  I really am going crazy.>

         

          As he looked around the room again, he pulled out his wand, which had surprisingly stayed in his pocket, and made a circle around himself.  The tip left a small ring of white, and it flew outward, restoring the room to its previous condition, and Harry felt a little better.  But as he stood up, Malfoy’s eyes flashed in his mind, and his scar tingled again.  With a sigh he moved to pick his broom up from the floor, and jumped ten feet in the air as the door burst open.  Harry stared wide-eyed at the figure in the door way, and walked around the bed to stand before him.

 

“Sirius…” he whispered.

“Gods Harry, why didn’t you tell me?” was all the older man said as he pulled his Godson into a tight hug, and Harry felt the overwhelming sense of sadness, and protection, coming from him.

 

 

~!*^*!~

 

 

          They hadn’t spoke a word the way back to Harry’s apartment, and as Harry unlocked the door, he noticed that he was slightly nervous.  He had never been nervous around Sirius before, and had no idea why he was starting to be now, but he knew it had something to do with the silence.  Once inside he took his Godfather’s cloak and hung it in the coat closet, and with a flick of his wrist, the candles were lit.  That was one of the many ingenius things Harry had thoght of when he bought the apartment.  Yes, it was a Muggle apartment, but it had that old fashioned wizard charm and look to it, despite the choice of furnishings.  Although he would have loved to have a fire place, it wasn’t very easy to find them on the third (and top) floor of an apartment building. 

 

          As Sirius walked int, he was faced with the largest room –the living room- and on the right (behind the door) was the laundry and coat closets.  To the left of the door was a small dark pine table, a vase of flowers set in the center, where Harry put his keys and other important ‘take-with-you’ things, and another door that had no real doorknob.  Obviously a storage cabinet for all of Harry’s wizarding belongings.  The living room was furnished with a dark pine coffee table and end tables by the black leather couch and recliner.   Along the left hand wall there was a huge entertainment system, with state of the art stereo, video, DVD, and speaker (among many others) sets.  On either side of it was a tall, up turned lamp, the potted vines growing up them, and over the top of the curio, clinging to the wall scones before hanging down slightly.  On the right hand wall was Harry’s desk, complete with Muggle computer, but also with his quills, inks, parchments, and other wizarding paraphenalia, such as an hour glass, Rememberall, his  Sneakoscope, and many other little things.  There was another lamp to match those by the entertainment system at the corner of the wall that turned to make the shor hallway that lead to the bathroom and Harry’s bedroom.

 

          At the far wall of the living room was a set of sliding french doors, leading out to the balcony.  The wall the entertainment system was against lead to the kitchen, where there was another slider, a small table set by it.  The kitchen was unusal for a Muggle, but then again, Harry had redone it once he bought the place.  The tile was black, with white groute, the cabinets all the same dark pine that the living room furniture was, the bottoms having solid doors, while the upper cabinets had cross-hatched glass doors.  The glass was wavy, like privacy glass, to prevent unwanted prying eyes from seeing the contents.  Although it wasn’t his favorite subject back in school, Harry did make his fare share of potions, and had three cabinets full of ingredients for such.  He also kept some of his more unique items in the kitchen, like a jar of Hermione’s Bluebell Flames, some of Hagrid’s Treacle Fudge, Berry Bott’s Beans of Every Flavor, and the infamous Ton Tongue Toffee that he kept, just in case he got a guest that wasn’t cooperating. 

         

          The counter tops were black marble, a black tile backsplash going all the way around the counter and up to the bottom of the upper cabinets.  All of his appliances were black, the stove being against the back wall, sink and dishwasher against the left, and fridge against the right.  The pantry was at the end of the counter, just by the table, and “Don’t Eat It Unless You Know What It Is” carved in Latin across the top.  All of the cabinets and furniture had ivy and mythological creatures carved into them, the tables having a protective glass covering (the desk has leather over the writing space) over them.  There were many dark green canisters along the back of the counters, on top of the upper cabinets, and on the fridge, each with its contents clearly labeled.  Some of it was simple muggle cooking things, like sugar, flour, salt and alike, but most of it was Harry’s dry potion ingredients, those that he may need more than a pinch of.  Like in the living room, there were candles all over (counters, upper cabinet, fridge top, table…) and ivy looped around the corner wall and grew over top of the cabinets, and hung over the edge of the pantry. 

 

          The large set of windows belonging to the balcony were draped with sheer black curtains that trailed to the floor, and a simple yet elegant leopard print fabric was hung on decorative rods as a valance, dipping lower in some places than others, sometimes with a tail hanging down.  The short hall to right (leading to the bathroom and bedroom) was dark, lit only by a single candle on the wall opposite the bathroom door.  Like everything else, it was dark pine.  The bathroom was decorated much like the kitchen, the tile being black, counters and cabinets the same style, with a large black jaccuzzi sitting in the back.  There was a tall lamp like those in the living room on the one wall (opposite the toilet and sink which were on the left (looking into the bathroom), and the same type of ivy that was throughout the rest of the apartment was linking itself across the small hooks on the ceiling that Harry had obviously put there for that exact reason.  Candles lit this room as well.  The floor throughout the whole place, with the exception of kitchen and bathroom, was a dark hard wood.

 

Sirius didn’t dare walk into Harry’s bedroom.

 

          Harry walked out of the kitchen carrying two silver goblets, and handed one to Sirius as he walked into the living room.  He had a strange feeling that this wasn’t going to be a good visit as Sirius looked at him with sad, calculating eyes.  His Godfather nodded as he took the goblet, and motioned for Harry to sit down.  He did as he was told.

 

          “Why didn’t you tell me Harry?” asked the dark haired man as he took a sip of the orange liquid in the goblet.

“Tell you what Sirius?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Malfoy died… in your arms?”

 

          Harry’s eyes narrowed in anger, and he looked away quickly, not wanting to start a fight.  How had Sirius found out?  Only the professors at Hogwart’s, Ron and Hermione knew about that, and they were all sworn to secrecy.

 

          “It doesn’t matter, does it?  For heavens sake Sirius, Malfoy’s dead, so why should it?!” he said angrily as his Godfather kneeled in front of him.

“It does matter Harry… it puts everything into place… I-“
”Puts what in place?!  I’m the way I am because he’s dead, not because I held him as he took his last breath!  Not because he was in my arms looking at me with the eyes I’d fell in love with and confessed that he was sorry for everything he’d ever done to me!  And I most certainly am not the way I am now because he told me that he had been in love with me since our 3rd year, and then with the last of his strength kissed me and told me that he’d always be watching over me!  I just don’t see how that makes a FUCKING DIFFERENCE SIRIUS!”

“It makes a big difference Harry!  You wouldn’t never had the urge to kill Voldermont for killing Malfoy if it hadn’t happened the way it did, and you wouldn’t be iso-“
”Isolating myself?  Sirius, didn’t you listen to a damn thing I just said!  I was in LOVE with him!  The moment I first saw him I knew, and if he died in front of me or in my arms it wouldn’t have stopped the feeling of anguish and heart break that I felt!  I would have fought the way I did knowing that I was saving him, letting him live to see another day, but no, he had to be the same old stubborn ass I met, and defend ME!  It’s MY fault Sirius!  If I hadn’t been so stupid as fall in love with him in the first place, I may have had moved to take the hit for him, but I was so terror stricken that I couldn’t move until it was too late!  And yes, I would have turned out the same had he not been in my arms, because after his death I received a letter, from Narcissa Malfoy.  He’d left it in her possession so should anything happen to him, there would be a way for him to tell me how much he loved me, and how much he hated me for being the one he should love!  That whole auction thing, it hurts like hell knowing that everything that was his is going to be given to someone who can’t or won’t appreciate it!  His dress robes from the Yule Ball in our 4th year, they won’t look right on anyone but him!  The cloak he wore when he died… I… I… Oh god…”

 

          Harry sank to his knees and stared out the balcony doors.  Sirius was beside him in a second, and pulled him into a tight fatherly embrace, holding the sobbing boy to him as if it were the only thing keeping him in this world.

 

          “It hurt so much when he died Sirius… and I thought the less people who knew the better my chances of never thinking of it again were.  But I was wrong.  I can’t get over it, it physically hurts.  Everytime I think of it… my scar… I have to use a sleeping potion to actually sleep, or I’ll wake in the middle of the night screaming his name.  It’s torture Sirius… … … why the hell did I have to fall in love with him?!”

 

~!*^*!~

 

          He watched the scene in # 69 Crookshanks Lane from across the street, sitting on a fire escape draped in darkness.  As all talking stopped, and the boy just sobbed into his guardians shoulder, he stood up, removed his invisibility cloak, and for some reason, a tear fell down his cheek.

 

          “You’ve grown soft in your old age.” a voice said from behind him.

“Shut up Snape.” he replied, turning and walking past the dark cloaked man.

“And you’re a fool for rising.”

“And you’re a fool if you think you can stop me!  Three years is long enough, and I’m not letting him be torn apart any more than he already is!”

“He’ll get over it.”
”If after three years, you call that getting over it, then you’re sick!”

 

          He jumped down the fire escape and walked out into the street, shoving his cloak into the bag he was carrying.  The older man looked down at him, and then up at the window across the way.  With a sad smile he watched Sirius held an exausted Harry Potter to his feet and to the couch.

 

          “The Sorting Hat was right Potter, you are brave, but I only hope you’re strong enough to handle this.”

 

 

~TBC~