Disclaimer: The fabulous J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all the characters in it, the only thing I own is the plot and any characters you don’t recognize. Any infringement is not intended blah blah blah. You know the drill.

Harry sat in silence in the car. Hedwig didn’t make a sound. If Harry leant to the side a bit, he could see Uncle Vernon’s puce face, jaw working as if he was preventing himself from shouting obscenities at him.

Harry focused his attention on Hedwig, who clicked her beak at him affectionately. He smiled faintly at her, and let her nibble his finger.

Suddenly, a loud popping noise made Hedwig squawk in fright, and Uncle Vernon swear loudly as smoke began pouring out of the car bonnet. As Uncle Vernon pulled over, Harry opened Hedwig’s cage, and let her perch on his shoulder. No doubt he would be expected to fix the car – Hedwig could get some air, he reckoned. Sirius wanted to get out into the open air, he recalled sadly. Even his dog form was hunted, at least now he couldn’t be captured by the Ministry, and have his soul sucked out by a Dementor.

“Boy, get out and help me fix this.” Uncle Vernon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He climbed listlessly out of the car, and went over to his red-faced uncle. Hedwig took off from his shoulder, and he watched as Uncle Vernon propped up the car bonnet, and almost choked on the smoke that came billowing out.

When the smoke had cleared, Uncle Vernon growled at him to get the toolbox from the boot. He fetched the toolbox, and wondered if Sirius had one. He used to have a motorbike, he remembered.

Finally, the verdict was passed: the car was knackered.

Harry tuned out his uncle’s ranting, and watched Hedwig swoop down to land on his shoulder. Her comforting weight cleared his whirling mind a little, and he turned to find his uncle grinning at him. Harry stepped back, Uncle Vernon didn’t grin. Not like this - predatory, like a cat would look at a particularly tasty mouse.

“We got a ruddy owl before you came back. A ruddy owl in my house!” Harry watched him warily; his uncle was not a happy bunny. “And you know what it was about? That ruddy godfather of yours.”

Harry went pale. “We know all about what you did. You got him killed. You’re bloody lucky I’m letting you back in the house, that’s TWO people you’ve gotten killed now! You ought to be-“

Harry slid down the side of the car.

You got him killed.

That’s TWO people you’ve gotten killed now.

No, a small voice protested in the back of his mind, it was Voldemort – he killed Cedric. Bellatrix Lestrange made Sirius fall through the Veil. I didn’t…

“- Ruddy Sirius Black will definitely not be coming near my family now. Like I said, murderer, the whole lot of them weirdoes will be dead by the time you finish that freakish school-“

Tears slid unwillingly down his face, his green eyes clouded.

“I didn’t…It wasn’t my fault…” he whispered. Uncle Vernon watched him, grinning madly.

“Right, boy. There’s going to be some changes made when we get back. If I’m going to be hiding a murderer in my house, he’s damn well going to earn his keep! Every three days, you will write exactly what I tell you, and send it to those oddballs at the station. You will do every single thing that Petunia or myself tells you to do, no questions asked. You can keep that damn trunk in your room, I’ll not have it cluttering up the cupboard under the stairs – Petunia needs that for her cleaning supplies. That ruddy owl will be kept silent, or I’ll wring its neck!” Hedwig screeched loudly, and fluttered her wings in agitation. “You’re bloody lucky I don’t do it now! If you put one toe out of line, you’ll be punished. I’ll not have any insolence in my house. If any neighbours get suspicious, you’ll be the one to blame, and you’ll be disciplined. At night, you’ll be locked in your room. I’ll not have you murdering us in our beds! Petunia wants bars on your windows, but if that owl is going to get in and out, there can’t be. Instead, we’re building a conservatory underneath your window. If you try to jump out, you’ll probably die from the glass!” He laughed sadistically. Harry paled even more. How the hell was he going to get out of this one?

Uncle Vernon began to list every single chore he’d be expected to do. He groaned inwardly.

Suddenly, his scar erupted in pain. He screamed, clutching his head, and he distinctly heard a cackle of insane laughter before he fell into blackness.

------

Something was rumbling gently underneath him…voices…he could hear voices…

Harry blinked a few times in the dim light, and sat up to see Uncle Vernon gesturing wildly at a man in dirty overalls and a baseball cap. He felt dizzy suddenly, and lay back down. Faintly, he heard the dirty man talk.

“…Look, are you sure the boy’s alright?”

“Yes, yes, he gets migraines sometimes, nothing to worry about.”

“Shouldn’t he see a doctor? Could be a brain tumour for all we know!”

He ignored them, and looked about. He was in a breakdown truck, outside Privet Drive. Nausea built up inside him, and he fumbled for the door handle quickly. Harry shakily got out of the truck (It smelled of cigarettes and petrol), and was spectacularly sick all over the pavement. The man hurried over, a concerned look on his face.

“You alright sonny?” Harry wiped his mouth and nodded weakly. Uncle Vernon hurried over and practically dragged him up the driveway, calling thanks to the man. As soon as they got inside the house, got his trunk to the bottom of the stairs, and the door was shut, his enraged uncle whirled around to begin his shouting. (“How dare you vomit all over the side of the road! How dare you have a fake screaming fit in the middle of the motorway!”)

Instead, he looked up into his uncle’s fat face, and imagined various fun ways of blasting him into next week.

Maybe Dobby would come and throw him through the wall. Maybe Mad-eye Moody would turn up and smack him over the head repeatedly with his wooden leg. Maybe Sirius would come and cackle gleefully while he turned Uncle Vernon’s ears into beehives and his moustache into a caterpillar. Except he wouldn’t, not now. A fresh wave of guilt smothered him, and he let out a muffled choke.

Blinking hard to get rid of the tears, he looked back up, and noticed that his uncle had stopped ranting. He struggled to his feet, and proceeded to thump his trunk as loudly as he could up the stairs and into his room. Hedwig was waiting for him outside on the windowsill, gazing at him with reproachful eyes. He crossed his room and let her in. She flew gently around the room a few times, and then glided gently to his shoulder.

He dug out an old t-shirt and a pair of older shorts, and wondered vaguely where all his pyjamas had gone as he changed. Next, he burrowed through his trunk and finally pulled out a slightly crumpled Self-Inking Quill, a piece of parchment, and a nearly empty roll of Spellotape. Hedwig hooted softly and perched on the back of his chair. Harry flung himself onto his bed and slowly and thoughtfully scratched out a letter. He read it through before rolling it up and sealing it with Spellotape. He doubted his aunt and uncle would be happy if he got melted wax all over the place.

Dear Professor Lupin,

I’m writing to let you and the Order know that I’ve arrived at the Dursley’s. On the way here, my scar hurt and I fainted. I didn’t see anything though, maybe he was just incredibly angry or something.

I’d like to go to Diagon Alley this year. I want to get my school things, and some Defence books. I need some other things too, like Owl Treats and some more quills.

Harry.

Ok, the letter wasn’t long, and it wasn’t bestseller of the year, but he didn’t need to put anything else. Quite frankly, he didn’t have the energy to argue his case about Diagon Alley. If the Order said no, well, he’d just have to sneak out.

He watched Hedwig fly away with the letter, and when she was just a speck in the sky, he fell back on to the bed with a massive yawn.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

------

Harry was standing in a meadow; a soft, green meadow, where the feathery grass tickled his bare feet, and the hills rose and fell gently into pleasant groves. He breathed in the delicious, live-giving air, and gazed reverently at the sunlight that glowed softly purple. Everything was bathed in an amethyst blaze, and Harry had never seen anything so beautiful.

He sat in the longish grass for a while, and waited for the sun to set. When it did, Harry watched in silent awe, as the clouds streaked violet fire across the lilac sky, and the sun blazed in an intense indigo inferno.

As he watched the sun sink below the horizon, the lavender sky deepen, thousands of diamante stars twinkle into the heavens, and the pale purple moon rise, he felt a gentle tugging towards a small hill to his right. He allowed his feet to take him there, and he was pleasantly surprised to find a picturesque cottage on the other side. His feet took him past the entrance, and he sighed wistfully as the door shut out his view of the night sky.

He turned around slowly, and almost collapsed in shock.

Standing in front of him were Lily and James Potter. And they looked solid, but quite lavender coloured.

He gasped in shock, and they smiled gently at him, like they’d been expecting him all along.

“Mum…Dad...” he started to say, but his mother, his beautiful, flame-haired mother, silenced him, and softly said

“He’ll be here in a few minutes, Harry.” She gave him a heart-breaking smile, and gestured to her husband to explain.

“Sirius will be here soon.” He stopped Harry from speaking with a look, and carried on. “Harry, you’re my son, and I’m sorry we weren’t there to raise you. I’d like to spend days talking to you, and getting to know my son, but there isn’t time. I’m sure there are a thousand questions you’d like to ask, but I’m not allowed to do that. All I can do is tell you what the three Judges want you to know.”

Harry nodded, he understood.

“When me and your mum were killed, we crossed a massive lake in boats steered by skeletons, and made of shadows. There were thousands of other boats, all filled with people. We got to shore, and the land was vague and misty. There was nothing there, except a massive three headed dog – pitch black, with a serpent’s tail. It told us it was Cerberus, and it guarded the Gate to the realm of the Dead. It let spirits enter, but permitted none to leave. It let us through the Gate, and after a long, long time, we were Judged by the three Judges - Rhadamanthys, Minos, and Aeacus. It took me ages to learn how to pronounce those names without offending them. We passed the Judging, and were transported here, the Elysian Fields. We’ve been here ever since. Being dead isn’t as bad as I thought. Anyways, we lived here and met loads of other dead people, blah blah blah, then one day a couple of years ago, Aeacus came up to us, and took us to a hidden cavern, where there was a bowl made of tiny crystals filled with this strange, glittery water. I think Lily should tell the rest, she gets cranky if I hog all the story-telling.”

Harry grinned shyly at his dead father, and allowed Lily to lead him to a seat in between her and James. She held one hand, and James squeezed his other.

“We saw you in that water, Harry, we saw you battle the Basilisk, meet Sirius, fight off all the Dementors, win the Triwizard Tournament. We watched you train a group of students to fight Death Eaters, and we watched you fight at the Department of Mysteries, and we also saw Sirius fall though the Veil. We saw how loyal you were to your friends, how you defended them and helped them get out of trouble – like Hagrid and his dragon. We were so proud! Aeacus told us that you were involved a special Prophecy made by Apollo himself! The Gods usually ignore prophecies, but this one has been affecting the realm of the Dead, and will bring about the destruction of the world, and the Gods, if it goes one way. I don’t know the exact wording, so I can’t tell you, but Rhadamanthys said he’ll get one of the minor Gods or Goddesses to help you and tell you what it is.”

Suddenly, a small tornado whirled next to the lilac fire (it reminded Harry of his head right now), and put it out. As the hurricane died down, Harry unshielded his eyes...and saw Sirius. He was pearly-white, and totally see-through, but Harry didn’t care. He staggered over, and flung himself at Sirius’s feet.

“…So sorry Sirius, I never meant to…. All my fault, I should have used the mirror…”

“Harry.” Sirius interrupted his frantic apologies gently. “It wasn’t your fault, I could have stayed at Grimmuald Place but I wanted to come and fight. It’s my fault.”

Unnoticed by Sirius, who was busy consoling Harry, and unnoticed by Harry, who was sobbing uncontrollably, Lily and James shared a sad smile. Harry was Sirius’s now.

A short time later, Harry was considerably embarrassed (he had had a fit of hysterics in front of his parents!), the fire was relit, and Sirius was ready to continue the story.

“After I fell through the Veil – I mean this in the nicest possible way Harry, shut up.” Harry closed his mouth hurriedly and blushed. James stifled a giggle, so Lily slapped his arm. Everyone winced. Lily’s slaps made a massive cracking sound. Rubbing his arm with a pained look, James told Sirius to get on with it. More precisely, Mister Prongs cordially suggests that Mister Padfoot tells the story before he accidentally gets a kettle shoved up his rather fat derriere.

Sirius awarded his best friend with his finest I-Am-The-Fearsome-Grim-So-Drop-Dead-Arsehole glare, and decided to carry on.

“Tell you what Harry, when you bring me back to life, I’ll tell you the story. What you need to know now is –“

“Bring you back to life?” interrupted Harry. “How the hell am I supposed to do that! It’s Necromancy, only the Darkest of the Darkest Dark Wizards can do Necromancy!”

“Look, Harry Dearest. I’m sorry if I seem irritable, but being stuck in Limbo for ages does that to you. I hope you’ll forgive your old, but sexy godfather when he tells you to let him get on with it.”

“You got the old part right…” muttered James, with a devilish grin.

“Shut it you,” said Sirius. “Harry, ignore your prat of a father, he’s been dead too long – must have addled his brain.”

Lily snorted, and James looked mildly offended. Harry muffled a snigger, while Sirius looked slightly innocent.

Suddenly, Sirius’s transparent form began to waver and shimmer.

“Oh crap!” Sirius bellowed, annoyed. “I usually get longer than this! Harry, listen closely.”

Harry scooted closer, and tried to make out his godfather’s next words.

“A god…ome and…elp you to bring….back from Limbo…for me…ounting on you Har…”

Sirius waved transparently and his form imploded into tiny wisps of lavender cloud. As he followed the last puff of mist upwards with his eyes, Harry noticed for the first time that the cottage didn’t have a roof. That explained why everything was still faintly purple.

Harry blinked his tears away, and turned back round to see his parents. He sat back in the chair…and fell halfway right through it, before becoming solid again.

“”Oh!” said Lily in dismay. “We’re losing you too!” She enveloped him in a warm hug, and held him tight. “…My son…No matter what you do, we’ll still be so proud of you!” She swiped at her teary emerald eyes, and smiled happily as James knelt beside him. “You look just like him!” she whispered.

James wrapped him in an embrace as well.

“My son, the star Quidditch player! Youngest Seeker in a century! You keep on kicking Slytherin arse! Be the best in everything so I can boast about how my son is the Minister of Magic, or the greatest Seeker in the universe. Will you do something for your ol’ dad?”

“What’s that?” Harry whispered.

James leant close, and whispered in his ear:

“Play the most stupendous prank in the history of Hogwarts on Snape. And become an Animagus, like me. And will you please tell Moony we’re sorry for thinking he was the spy, and that if he doesn’t start eating a decent meal, I’ll do what I did in third year.”

Harry grinned wickedly.

“On Snape? Of course I will. And I’ll tell Professor Lupin what you said.”

“That’s my boy!” James ruffled his rapidly fading hair and kissed his forehead gently.

“Harry, I’ll ask if the God or Goddess who’s going to help you if they’ll take you a message!” called Lily. She stood in front of Harry, and gazed into his eyes, so like her own.

Suddenly, Harry was incredibly tired, and his eyes drooped shut. The last thing he felt before he fell into blackness was a slight pressure squeezing his hand, and soft, cool lips on his cheek.

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