Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or YYH, nor anything affiliated with them. Sorry. I wish I did.

Jade: Just remember that this is AU fifth year and that means that everything that occurs in the fifth book and beyond are under my jurisdiction and up for me to twist and contort as I like. I don’t like that book, and honestly? I read through the whole book in less than ten hours and never touched it again. T.T It was torture. I spent the majority of the time I was reading that itching to hit Harry for his behavior or stuffing my head under a pillow and trying not to scream because I had a best friend and a four-year-old sleeping next to me. Suffice to say, I didn’t go to sleep that night. It was the night it came out, too.

Chapter Seven

Molly and Arthur Weasley looked up at the ceiling, pausing mid-conversation. A shout of 'honestly' followed their pause as well as a yelp from their youngest son.

Arthur laughed quietly under his breath while his wife furrowed her eyebrows and tried to fight off a smile. “Glad to see the dear all energetic,” Molly looked at her husband fondly, who was now looking up with a pensive expression.

“Hmm? Harry?” he looked at his wife intently. He looked worn and tired, lines framed his eyes and his thinning hair shifting a little more blond than red every day.

“Yes, the poor dear has been so quiet...” she moved closer to her spouse and laid a hand on his arm.

He turned to place a quick consoling kiss on her cheek. “It's probably an after effect from the Goblet of Fire. He did see a classmate die.”

Scowling she snapped, “Those muggles probably didn't help matters either!”

“They looked like they had been taking care of him...” At his wives rebuking look he quickly amended, “Physically, I mean!”

Harry had looked alright when he had come to pick him up. Not good but alright, and mayhap a tad thinner, although that was probably the effect of those horrendously baggy clothes. How muggles considered it a fashion was beyond his admittedly lacking understanding. The boy had been waiting at his door for Merlin's sake, his belongings in hand.

“Awful muggles, just awful. Why he couldn't have had relatives like Hermione's I'll never know.” Molly fussed under her breath. Rounding her husbands side she walked into the kitchen where a dish cleaning spell had nearly run it's course.

She was almost tempted to postpone dinner, just to have him around longer...

“Honestly Ron! I thought you'd have more sense!”

Harry was sitting on his friend's Chuddly Cannon bedspread in his eye burning orange room, glaring at said friend. Hermione was getting into the scolding, if the projectiles were to be taken into consideration.

“Ow! Hermione!” Ron groused, shielding his head from a broken quill. “I didn't mean it like that!”

“I wasn’t tying to pick up your sister! I d—” Harry caught himself, “I’ve known her since I was eleven! I’m not interested!”

“I said I didn’t mean that!” Ron moved his hands from shielding his face to wrench on his short red hair out in frustration.

“Let’s just drop it,” Harry groaned, running his hands down his face in exasperation. This argument was going no-where and it was on a subject he wasn’t comfortable discussing with them, to boot!

“Seriously Ron!” Hermione threw another projectile—this time a dirty sock. “Now you’re making it seem like Harry is gay!”

“I said drop it!” Harry squawked, adrenalin spiking at the mention. They didn’t need to know, they really didn’t need to know!

They both jerked back in shock at the unexpected shout.

“But Harry…”

Harry looked around for an escape, muttering out loud, “It doesn’t matter, Ginny is like a little sister to me.” Harry looked back as a question sprang to mind, “Hey, where am I going to sleep? Nobody’s told me yet.”

Ron and Hermione traded indecipherable looks and about the time Hermione started with, “Well…” Ron cut in.

“Sorry mate, you’re only staying here for dinner. Dumbledore said that it wasn’t—”

“Professor Dumbledore said that you were going to go somewhere safe.”

Harry was struck dumb for a moment, the rejection stinging. Wasn’t he supposed to stay? It was just over night! Harry was about to open his mouth, a protest on his lips when Ron jumped in again. “Yeah, with a dog.”

“Snuffles?!” elation bloomed and Harry leaned forward, clenching the bedspread in his fists tightly, almost to the point of tearing. “Snuffles will be there?”

Yeah! Mind you, I’ve only been up there once.” Ron muttered crossly.

The very picture of righteous indignation Hermione huffed in reply, “Well, I haven’t.” She tucked a frizzy lock of hair behind her ear. “Mrs. Weasley said it was dangerous.” Her tone was conversational, “She said that she might let us go next year—”

“Ginny wasn’t allowed to go at all,” Ron cut her off abruptly, leaning closer to his friend and cupping his mouth with his hand in mock-confidentiality, “and Snuffles stayed as, well, Snuffles. The whole time I was there.”

Interest sparked Harry started fishing, “What’s it like?” a simple question first.

Rin scratched his head through his copper orange hair. “Well…”

“Out with it Ron!” Hermione prodded not-so-gently.

Flustered, Ron snapped back, “I am! It’s err…” he trailed off at a loss. “Erm… Dark? It’s really gloomy and depressing and there is a portrait that screams at everybody.” He perked up, “I heard it even screamed at Dumbledore.” He shrugged at their incredulous expressions, “It does! It’s bloody loud too!”

“That’s it?” Harry asked seeming to sag where he was sitting. He’d been hoping for more, or at least a better description. Or… a more promising one.

Sirius had lived in Azkaban, wouldn’t…? It didn’t matter. He dismissed his thoughts. Sirius would be fine. He hoped Professor Lupin was visiting, at least.

Snuffles, Padfoot, Sirius Black. He was an interesting human and an interesting person to boot. Demons in the Makai never behaved like Sirius had, after torture. He hadn’t thought it would be possible, to be so open after an ordeal like twelve years in Azkaban. Twelve years. It was horrifying to think of. He wouldn’t have been able to survive. Every bad memory from this life and his last coming back in full clarity every time a Dementor was near? Harry was a bat, and maybe that made him a bit more fragile than a loyal and strong canine.

Battered but still fighting… Sirius lived more in the moment than anybody he had ever met, as Harry or Kuronue.

Harry felt exhausted all at once. Sometimes being Harry was harder than being Kuronue had ever been. He admired his godfather for his perseverance and heart. Maybe that was odd for a demon, but he admired him all the same. Harry had never had someone who was willing to care on ‘familial’ ties alone.

Kuronue’s clan had cared little, as their numbers had been on the rather high end of the spectrum. It had been a fairly isolationist community. He also knew that he had been an unwelcome accident, as had his elder sister, God don’t bless her soul.

He had left the clan of his own violations, and under the protest of the clan heads, a while before maturity. Well, the term escaped, may be a better one to use to characterize his departure, as deserting the clan was unacceptable behavior. In reflection, he shouldn’t have left so early and it pretty much forced him to become a bandit-thief but… whose to know? It might have turned out the same anyway.

Heh. Served them right.

Harry propped his chin on his right hand and watched his friends who were paying him no mind. Hermione and Ron were embroiled in another argument, petty and unheated as it were, their voices hadn’t raised above ‘indoor’ volume.

Harry’s attention wandered again. He found it rather hard to keep focused and he didn’t bother to hide a yawn.

“Harry?” it was Hermione.

“Hmm?” he focused on her face. They had stopped their arguing, it seemed.

“Are you alright? You’ve been sleeping well, haven’t you? It’s not…” Cedric, she left unsaid, afraid of intruding on tender ground.

“A bit too much.” He answered cryptically, avoiding details. They didn’t need to know about his relatives’ negligence this past summer.

“But are you okay?” Hermione pressured with a pinched worried look.

“Yeah, mate, you’re not looking so well.” Ron pitched in with his own knut of worry.

Harry perked up some, looking alert and almost cheery. “I’m fine.” He smiled disarmingly, “I’m just a little tired and hungry.” They looked a little less worried and he pushed on, “We were at Diagon Ally today, remember?” he teased. “And all I’ve had to eat today was that ice cream at Florean’s.”

Ron growled out a derisive, “Those bloody muggles!”

At the same time Hermione gasped, “Your Aunt and Uncle didn’t feed you?!”

Remembering how much grief his friends had always given him about missing meals, Harry cringed and regretted saying anything. He didn’t mind their behavior so much, as he had grown used to it in the four years he had known them, but… Merlin, they cared a lot, didn’t they?

Thinking quickly, he gestured with his hands, trying to pacify them, “It’s all right you guys. I just woke up late and didn’t have time to grab anything!” he lied, “They’ve been treating me okay, they left me alone, actually!” maybe that was an overstatement, but they did leave him alone. For too long, actually.

Hermione looked doubtful at that but Ron took it at face value.

“Really?”

Relieved that Ron, at least, was accepting the explanation, Harry hastened to assure, “yes! Really. Err…” He glanced at Hermione thinking fast, “You don’t have to worry. I’m okay! Look at me.” He held his arms out dramatically in offering, almost obscenely grateful for his modified glamours.

Under the effects of the spell, Harry did appear to be fine. Albeit thinner and paler than when he had left for the summer, but not emaciated or pasty white. That was the bulk of the change. He hadn’t gotten any taller, and his hair hadn’t changed, and his face was only maybe slightly thinner. He still looked the same, and it was what they would have expected. He probably should have put on a few inches in height, but Harry wasn’t sure he’d get those inches over the school year. He was hoping that that would occur over the school year, but he didn’t want to hold the glamour any longer than he had to. As it was, he definitely wouldn’t be able to while he was sleeping, and his spell casting would be wretched until he was no longer devoting so much of his energy to maintaining the glamour.

Ron sure had gained more than just a few inches, and Harry was now an inch or two shorter than Hermione, but that had always been common. He had always been the smallest in his year.

He really hoped he’d get a growth spurt over the school year. It would make his year. Harry almost scowled, missing the height he used to have.

Hermione still looked a bit doubtful but she pursed her lips and nodded in acceptance.

“Dinner should be soon.”

Kurama came back from his outing with a bounce in his step. He hadn’t actually stolen anything, though he had been sorely tempted, but he had gotten a bit out of bounds when he stopped at the bank. The goblins had caught him and scolded him for straying, of course, though Kurama hadn’t been trying to hide from them in the first place. The whole structure seemed to thrum with power and those goblins were everywhere. Acting the part of a poor confused foreigner had gotten him off the hook amazingly fast. They either had to be exceedingly confident in their security measures, or foolish.

It reminded him of a place he had raided with Kuronue, once, around eight decades ago.

He walked up the stairs and past the banister where his flower twitched, as if eager to greet him but resigned to staying in place, though the plant wasn’t quite intelligent enough for that complexity.

Kurama now had quite the collection of flower-screens gathered in his pocket. Some had been placed in shops and outside in the streets of Knockturn Ally. The most interesting stores he had ‘planted’ them in had been Borgin & Burkes and some nameless shop that was full of shrunken heads and miscellaneous cursed objects and artifacts. And others had been littered in the more and less populated areas of Diagon Ally. Both could be good sources of information.

His door creaked as he pushed it open and shut behind him with a resolute click.

While he didn’t think that the newspapers would glean any important information, Kurama had also subscribed to a few papers, the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet two of the more notable ones. Witches Weekly he had vetoed all together when he looked over a copy of it on a stand. Nothing but boys and gossip fit for nosy girls and old ladies.

Who was Lockhart anyway? Kurama set his bags at the foot of his bed and made a mental note to look up recent pop culture and wizarding events.

Stretching his arms up high he yawned. He’d just brush his hair, take a shower, and tidy up for his trip to Kings Cross Station and make it a day. Koenma had provided ample funding for supplies, and Kurama was sure he had enough for a Taxi to the station. It was probably only twenty or thirty miles north off where he was currently.

He really didn’t want to take a ‘muggle’ bus, not that he had heard of any ‘wizarding’ ones.

He made another mental note. He needed to ask if there were any wizarding modes of transportation.

“Ron?” Harry looked across and down the table, “Would you pass the butter?”

“Hmph?” Ron chewed his food about halfway and garbled out, “Sure.” Before passing it half way.

“Thanks.” Harry had to get out of his seat slightly, because half way for Ron wasn’t half way for him, but at least he could reach it.

“Oi! Ginny! A biscuit!” Fred, and Harry was pretty sure it was indeed Fred, called from one end of the table.

A biscuit went sailing not much later.

“Thanks!”

“You really do have the—”

“Best aim our dear sister!”

Neither Mr. or Mrs. Weasley seemed to mind, though Hermione, predictably, scowled and glared.

The noise in the room was astounding. Not so much that it was particularly loud, but rather in that it was… full. Everyone seemingly had something to say and there were few breaks in the conversations. All subjects were tossed on board to boot. Fred and George were holding a very loud discussion about the pros and cons of aged and fresh Bloatwort leaves in potions—as apparently they had different effects on the potency of a potions and the shelf-life—with Hermione, while Ginny was jumped in and out of the conversation at will, while Ron argued Hufflepuffs chances against Ravenclaw—which he argued was hard to say because there were supposed to be new people chosen to fill spots on the teams this year and both teams seemed evenly matched anyway—with Ginny and Harry.

Percy was eating in relative silence, a book in his lap, and only pitching into the conversations when asked directly. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also more on the quiet side though that didn’t mean they weren’t pitching in.

And… Harry stared at his very full plate, knowing he’d never get it all down. Mrs. Weasley’s prods of ‘eat more dear, you’re too thin’, weren’t going to change that.

Harry stood just inside the doorway of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, taking in the vicinity. He may not be on a battle front, but he sure felt like it. The portrait Ron had mentioned was screaming obscenities and expletives. The sound was grating on his ears, and he could see at least eight people lurking in his peripheral vision.

“Come along this way, Harry,” Mr. Weasley beckoned, wincing at the shrill portrait but otherwise steadfastly ignoring it. He’d probably had enough practice doing so.

Harry nodded and followed, still looking around attentively. He could hear the faux-Moody now—Vigilance!

Harry’s only clear impression of the house was easily defined by the word ‘dreary’. The furnishings and woodwork of the house was done in a type of dark wood—Youko would probably know which type, in fact, but Harry had never bothered to learn—and there seemed to be an inconsistent theme of dark blue, or maybe green, upholstery and rugs. It was hard to tell, as everything seemed to be covered in a decades worth of dust. The only bright things were the various silver and crystal decorations, as tarnished and dirty as they were.

He honestly wanted to grab a dust cloth and some all-purpose cleaner, and a vacuum.

Merlin, he blamed the Dursleys for that.

Mr. Weasley quickly escorted him to their destination, a room only a few doors and a hallway away. The dining room-meeting room it appeared.

“Harry!”

The speeding body of a big black dog stopped only a toot away in the form of a very human Sirius Black. A hand slapped his back a few times and he was embraced in—what he had heard Hermione dub several times—a ‘man’ hug, though an arm stayed slung over his shoulders in a friendly manner.

Ron had done it a few times, and the twins more than a few times, so Harry didn’t falter. It was more familiar territory than Mrs. Weasley’s hugs were.

“Hi, Sirius!” Harry smiled widely in genuine happiness.

“How’ve you been, sport?” Sirius returned, pulling back just slightly and looking down on his with a brilliant smile and alert, if sunken, electric blue eyes.

Sirius looked better than he had the last time, Harry noticed at once. His hair wasn’t as lank and greasy and while he was by no means completely healthy, he looked a great deal better than he had while he had been on the run. It was amazing what a few good meals, fitting robes, and a bath and a trim could do for an Azkaban escapee.

“Fine,” Harry answered, “and even better, now that I get to see my friends and my dear old godfather.”

If Sirius had his tail, it would have been wagging at that.

“What about you?”

Sirius dampened at the question, “Could’ve been better.” He seemed to glare at his surroundings.

Confused, Harry tilted his head slightly in silent inquiry, “You liked being on the run?”

“Merlin no! But anything is better than here!” Sirius groused, letting his arm drop from Harry’s shoulders.

Harry looked around again. It seemed a bit darker and more depressing than when he had entered, but not bad enough to merit that exclamation and definitely not uninhabitable.

“This is my mother’s house,” Sirius volunteered banging his fist on a nearby wall. “Hated this place when I was young,” he grinned, all teeth, “Still do, I ran away more times than I can count,” He added.

Harry weakly smiled back at the vicious grin. That was one thing that he wished he could have done successfully. To flee and never look back, what a dream that had been. However, to his chagrin, escaping to the Makai wouldn’t have been a viable option. It was only just becoming an acceptable option now, but now he didn’t have much of a reason to go. He could survive the Dursleys, and he had so far, and he didn’t want to abandon his newfound godfather and his ‘siblings’ Ron and Hermione. They were close enough to count as family. In any matter, he doubted he would have survived as a ‘child’ in either world—one where children are not to be left alone, or one where they were acceptable food.

“Where’d you go?” Harry inquired as they started out another door, down another hallway, and up a few flights of stairs.

Sirius looked back, and tripped up the stairs. “Agh!” he yelped, “Merlin, that was a close one.” He grabbed the rickety stairwell and ignored Harry’s startled exclamation of concern, “What do you mean? While I was on the run or when I ran away?”

“When you ran away,” he clarified.

Sirius took a left at the top of the stairs, “Hmm… Before Hogwarts I used to go to a muggle park that was around here when I was little. It’s not here anymore though,” he seemed thoughtful. “I loved it, plus it made my mother madder than hell.”

“And after?”

Barking out a laugh he continued, “Oh, Hogwarts! After that I’d take off to Jamesies house. Mother would send howlers aplenty whenever I’d do that, but she didn’t often come and get me herself.”

Somehow Harry had been expecting that, “My dad’s?”

“Yep! One second, Harry.” Sirius opened a door and flipped on the light and turned around to stand in the doorway. “I’ll sleep in that room right over there,” he pointed across the hall, “and this is the guest room. You’ll be staying here tonight.”

Harry followed Sirius in and sat on one of the beds as his godfather juvenilely straddled a wooden chair, his robe opening to reveal a white T-shirt and light blue jeans. “You know,” his godfather continued thoughtfully, “James’ father had this long running joke when I was a kid.” His eyes flashed slightly but he blinked harshly and folded his arms over the back of the chair and rested his chin over them. “He used to ask, ‘Where’s the rent?’ every time I came over.”

Harry had to smile at that.

Please drop by a review, even if it just says ‘hi’! Although, I would also like constructive criticism, if you happen to have any.

Anonymous reviews are always accepted, please leave your email in the designated slot (NOT THE MESSAGE, PLEASE!) and I promise to E-Mail you the alert when I update again!

Jade: And I reiterate; this is AU fifth year and that means that everything that occurs in the fifth book and beyond are under my jurisdiction, and up for me to twist and contort as I like. That means that you may see parallels with the fifth book, as well as occasions and situations that would shoot cannon to hell. –aah! Added note! Storylistener! This comment is not directed towards you! THANK YOU for the noted discrepancy! Any other pre-story/post-cannon mix-ups please bring to my attention if you would? I can be quite fallible.

Just remember, some things are fate, and I AM GOD and the PULLER OF STRINGS. …in this story, at least.

Oh and just for fun… Kurama + Knight bus …? And the part that ALL of you are looking forward to is scheduled to come next chapter! —grins—

Oh and in the works: ‘Angel of Fire, Demon of Ice’, ‘Magokoro’, ‘Witness’, ‘Reality’, ‘It Would Not Over Time’, ‘untitled vampfic’, and ‘Snapshot’, so sorry for my divided time.

Thank you and glompeths too to:

angelkitty77, Tsurainoshi, KuroSakura-chan, Shadowgal ANBU, wdsnoop, terriestral-angell, momocolady, BladesofSilver, Hokuala, KitsuneOnna1, kahuffstix, Firehedgehog, peppymint, Lacus01, DiddyKong666, TwilightFalls, Kurama’srose124, darksaphire, kagedfox, KingofLoosePages, Pickle-Kitten, Hittocere, Kitten1011, MakurayamiOokami, LadyRosemary, Sweet-single, TheNightAir, animelava, Olaf74, Shadowolf21, mistressKC-wanteddeadoralive, HelKat, DragonFirePrincess, storylistener, HikaruKosuzaku, Sonia120462, Rythym, Merciless-the-insane-cancerian, libsrevenge, and Mari92.