"Let me look at you, pup." Sirius grabbed Harry with two hands on his shoulders. "Yes, a bit small, but I can remember the Great Revelation of James Potter at the tender age of sixteen when he surpassed Moony and was suddenly granted with muscles. I still think that THAT was the main reason for Lily to fall for that nitwit... But back to you, Prongslet. Yes, lithe form, decent cheekbones, and gorgeous eyes. Only that poor excuse of black hair on that head of yours, but I guess a decent witch can look past that.." Sirius's grey eyes were twinkling with mischief.
"Oi! My hair isn't that bad! It's like I just caught the snitch. It's winner's hair in my book. Still better than that goatee you call a beard." Harry stuck out his tongue at Sirius.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too, pup. I'm glad to finally have you here. I've been begging Dumbles since the beginning of June for a long slumber party. But apparently, an old Godfather as poor Snuffles himself isn't entitled to a slumber party with his favorite Godson. But you're here, finally. I just have to steal you away from your friends and other devotees from time to time." Sirius grinned and gave Harry a big hug.
"Sit down deary, I'll get you some breakfast. Some adults must take action to actually take care of the little ones. You must be famished!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. She pursed her lips disapprovingly and scooped a plate full of food.
"Actually Mrs. Weasley, a slumber party sounds good to me. I have not slept this night, and I'm starting to feel tired." Harry looked pleadingly to Sirius.
"Eat first pup, and we can catch up a bit before you retire for the morning. You can sleep in my room, it's located on the second floor, but more importantly: it's quiet."
Harry looked at his Godfather and wondered how his Godfather could understand him so well, in such a short time. His eyes watered and once more he drew Sirius in for a big hug.
"Thanks, Sirius."
Harry sat down and began with his breakfast. "Can you tell me where we are? Hermione and Ron told me some bits and pieces, but I must confess my feelings were clouding my thirst for information." Harry chuckled.
"Yes, we heard your voice upstairs. You've got some temper there, pup. But to answer your question: we are in the townhouse of the family Black. This is my ancestral home. I grew up in this place. I know every nook and alcove. I've got a lovely house elf that hates my guts and I have a fabulous portrait of my darling mother on the wall. I have been feeling giddy this whole summer." Sirius's eyes shone dejectedly.
"And Voldemort? What is he doing? What are you doing?"
"Easy pup, those are a lot of questions. Voldemort keeps quiet. Apart from us and his Dead Eaters, nobody knows he's back. You see, you are the only one that has seen him in the flesh. The Ministry has been denying his resurrection most rigorous. The Ministry has been dragging your name through the mud since the beginning of the summer. They never believed your story. We-"
"What are they thinking! Did Cedric fell dead just like that? Did my tremors from the Cruciatus Curse magically appear just for the sake of my story?" Harry began to shake a bit, his breakfast was long forgotten.
"They are cowards Harry. Denying for the sake of peace of mind is easier than a massive nervous breakdown. But we believe you. You are at the official safe house of the Order of the Phoenix. We have been listening to whispers of movements of Death Eaters. We have been looking for tell signs for Voldemort's return. The signs are there, Harry, but only time will tell when the public will believe your story."
Harry was raging. His body filled with a fit of cold anger that slowly overtook his whole being. His mind became clear and calm. Cold eyes took a look at the group in front of him. 'What are the chances of the so-called elite of the light when they do nothing. Just look at them, a fugitive, a werewolf, a too friendly middle-aged man (sorry Mr. Weasley), a screaming housewife, and some Aurors that can be sneaked up by a mere teen.' Harry thinks bitterly.
"Harry." Remus interrupts. "Harry, can you tell us what happened that evening with the Dursleys. Fletcher told us about a Dementor attack, but he did not see the actual attack."
Harry started his narrative of the evening. He didn't tell them about the Harry Hunt. Some things are just private. He would tell Sirius and Remus at a later date. He spared no detail of the actual attack. The rotting smell of the creatures and their skeleton-like hands. The despair overtook Harry. Harry sat back after his story and looked around. He saw some sad faces. Heads shaking no. Denial was visible in their eyes.
"Harry, Dementors glide to their victims. They hover above their prey. They don't grab. Every single Dementor attack is written down as a figure hovering above its victim, its arms at the sides. They never grab the person, they don't need to. The victim is frozen with fear... Are you sure that is what happened?" Remus looked at him doubtfully.
"Yes Remus, I am certain. One Dementor took hold of me and tried to Kiss me. I was frightened and frantic. I wanted to be free, so I started thrashing around. And it worked! I got loose. But I have proof! I've got a big scratch of the old thing. Nasty looking too."
Harry took the collar of his shirt down and showed the group his wounds. He looked down at the red slash, with the black veins sprouting from it. He looked back to the group and widened his eyes. They didn't believe him.
"Harry, dear, there is nothing to see. Just clear skin. Oh, how traumatic this whole experience must be for such a small boy." Mrs. Weasley lets out a dramatic shriek and gives Harry a hug.
Harry sighs. He felt old, weary, and confused. He didn't want to be there anymore. The fatigue was catching up with him.
"Siri, can you show me your room? That slumber party sounds heavenly right now."
"Of course Pup, of course."
***
Harry woke after a couple of hours of sleep. He still felt tired, it was bone-deep. It occurred to Harry that he felt a bit depressed and disappointed. His body still ached and his mind still took giant leaps from one theory to another. He walked to his own room (which he shared with Ron) and took out some fresh clothes and went into the bathroom. After freshening up, he walked back to his room and opened his trunk. He took out a blanket, needle, and thread. He walked directly to a room he saw on the ground floor. It was a gloomy, sinister room that might feel unwelcome to anyone else. But to Harry, the room felt like a dark, warm blanket protecting him from unwanted eyes. On the wall was a tapestry, filled with portraits and names. Eyes void of life stared at him. After a short inspection, Harry concluded it was the family tree of the House of Black. He saw a couple of scourge marks, but other than that, the tapestry was in mint condition. After setting up on a comfortable divan, Harry started to work. He took the blanket and started embroidering the fabric. Small runes were set on the edges of the fabric. It was repetitive work and soon Harry fell into a calm rhythm. Hours leave quietly. In the end, the silence was broken by Ron's voice.
"Harry, here you are! I have been looking for you everywhere! What are you doing mate?" Ron looked down on Harry's work. He wrinkled his nose and looked at Harry in confusion.
"A bit girly don't you think? Knitting is a hobby of my mother, surely you have other things to do?"
"Ron, I'm not knitting. I am embroidering, that is something completely different. Look at the edges: that are runes. I'm working on a happy blanket. I know, it sounds stupid. But the aim is to give the wearer happy feelings and warmth. My ultimate hope is that it wards off nightmares. You know how bad it gets for me. Besides, this is the only magic I can do outside of school."
"Huh, sounds useful, but you don't even take Ancient Runes. Next, you tell me that you want to take an OWL on the subject. You are not turning in 'Mione, right?" Ron let out a roar of laughter.
"Come on Mate, dinner is served! Better not be late!" Ron was just barely salivating at the thought of his mother's food. He looked at Harry again doubtfully and left the room.
Harry finished his last Rune and started cleaning up his things. He decided to leave his work on the desk so that he could continue later. He knew he would have to work at night on two evenings when it was a full moon. Embroidery in the moonlight added magic to the work, and Harry had saved a special spool of thread for the full moon. After some trial and error Harry embedded the thread with his Patronus Charm, he did this at the end of the year at Hogwarts. The ritual he used was borderline grey, almost dark. But he was confident in the results. He was already excited at the thought of using the magical silver thread. Now that he had finished the alignment of the Runes, all he had to do was adding the silver wire to take effect. It was still hard work for one night, but in the end, it was all about the intended result.
Dinner was chaotic. The whole Weasley family was there, fighting for the better cuts of meat. Harry ignored this a bit. He had filled his plate with some white meat and a lot of vegetables. His stomach was not yet used to a lot of fatty food. The dessert was delicious and Harry let Mrs. Weasley know. She immediately scooped up a second serving for Harry. Harry took this reluctantly, hoping his stomach wouldn't get upset later in the evening. After dessert, Harry had another cup of chamomile tea and chatted with the Weasley twins. Tapping on the window interrupted the group. A Blakiston Fish-Owl stared through the glass. Remus opened the window and let the bird in. The owl flew to Harry and dropped a package in Harry's lap. Before Harry could open it, Remus stopped the teen.
"Wait Harry, let me check this first," Remus muttered a couple of Latin phrases and made some elaborate movement with his wand. "Nothing, It's clear." He looked at Harry expectantly.
Harry opened the package and felt all the eyes of the group on him. He took out the brown packing paper and put it aside. The package contained the latest edition of Witch Weekly. He felt his cheeks burning red with shame. His eye fell on the name of the so-called subscriber: Still Living. Radars spun in his head and he quickly climbed to his feet. He took an owl snack, gave it to the owl, and sent it on its way.
"Harry, mate! You take embroidery to the next level! You're turning into a girl!" Ron started laughing. "Why do you have a subscription to Witch Weekly? Fashion tips? Do you keep track of the election for the wizard with the most beautiful smile?"
Ron had tears in his eyes from laughter and was flushed. Harry also heard the twins go wild with jokes.
"I better take this upstairs. I'll see you later." Harry grabbed the magazine and rushed out of the room. His legs quickly carried him up the stairs to his room. He locked it, he did not feel like watching peepers for a moment. He took a deep breath and looked around. He was all alone, again.