Harry woke with a start. What kind of room was that? Right now, there were two people whom he knew he could tell. But, really, why had he been doubting Amelia so much? Perhaps it was the same reason he couldn't remember what happened after the end of June. Really, if he hadn't been able to remember his therapy, then he would still blame himself for the Creeveys' deaths.
Not that he didn't.
He should go tell Sirius about his weird dreams.
Harry put his glasses (That now had the right prescription) on and slowly walked downstairs, careful not to wake anything or cause a ruckus.
"Sirius?"
His godfather was in the living room with a steaming hot mug of what Harry thought was probably tea talking to...Amelia.
"What is it, Harry?" Sirius lowered his mug.
"Er, can I talk to you — alone?"
It was quiet for a minute before Amelia sighed, "Just put up privacy wards. I'm stuck to this couch for the night because of Rem and Tonks. Timed sticking charms. They are mad at me."
"And so am I," Sirius said, "I recommend you don't sit on the couch."
"Okay," Harry said awkwardly, turning a random chair around and sitting on it, straddling the back.
Sirius muttered a quick, "Privasi," and Amelia gave a thumbs up, indicating she couldn't hear. Then, she whipped out a KNIFE and started polishing it. A knife!
"Don't mind her," Sirius said, "She's like that. So tell me what's going on."
"Sirius," Harry said, "I...something's wrong with me." Sirius did not move. "For one, I'm having these weird dreams about a...door. That sounds weird, but it's happening so much, Padfoot! For another, I feel like I shouldn't trust Amelia for some reason and I really don't know what happened in July."
"Interesting," Sirius said, taking a sip from his mug, then promptly spitting it out. "Amelia! Are you kidding me?!"
Amelia looked up, raised an eyebrow, and looked back at her other knife, then flung one across the room, hitting the bullseye that she had conjured.
"Ugh," Sirius canceled the spell and glared at Amelia, "You know I don't like coffee!"
Amelia grinned, "Yeah, you probably shouldn't have told me that."
"Yeah, well, I didn't really!"
"You should learn to be careful when you're talking, Siri," she answered, then waved her wand at the couch, making it much longer than it was. "I'm going to sleep. Good night."
She curled up on the couch and closed her eyes.
Sirius and Harry talked a bit longer before Harry turned in again.
There was a party because Ron and Hermione were prefects. At first, Harry was angry, but then he was happy for them.
Sirius, Tonks, Amelia, Remus, and Shacklebolt were there and Moody arrived shortly afterward.
"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here," said Mrs. Weasley brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his traveling cloak. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages — could you have a look at the writing desk in the drawing-room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."
"No problem, Molly . . ." Moody's electric-blue eye swiveled upward and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. "Drawing room . . ." he growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it. . . . Yeah, it's a boggart. . . . Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"
"No, no, I'll do it myself later," beamed Mrs. Weasley. "You have your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually. . . ." She gestured at the scarlet banner. "The fourth prefect in the family!" she said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair.
"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Lupin.
"Well, congratulations," said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, "authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you. . . ."
Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs. Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had brought Mundungus with them too; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody's traveling cloak.
"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr. Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. "To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"
Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them and then applauded.
"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waist-length today; she looked like Ginny's older sister. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."
"Like what?" said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.
"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks.
Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra-large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.
"What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked, thumping Hermione on the back. Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual barklike laugh, and Amelia, who was by him, snorted.
"No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge."
"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Lupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."
Harry's mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either.
"Right, Remy, the good boy," Amelia laughed. The remaining Marauders grinned.
"If only they knew," Remus laughed. "How many times I came up with the prank and they got detention for it."
"Weren't you prefect too, Mel?" Sirius asked.
Amelia's smile lessened, looked a bit sadder. "I was after Cammie died. She was the best candidate, then it would have been Willa Selwyn. Really, I was the worst one to be prefect."
"Selwyn? I would think she was the last one to be prefect!"
"She only hated you because of what you did to her brother, idiot!"
All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable, except for the comment of Amelia's friend, Cammie, dying in her fifth year; Harry loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room. Life at the moment was a-okay.
"Mate, you alright?" Ron asked, "You haven't been talking to us lately."
Harry looked up, frowning, "I talked to you yesterday, didn't I?"
"Harry, you haven't talked to us for a full week," Hermione said worriedly.
Harry frowned, "What day is it? It's only been about a week since I got here, right?"
"Harry," Ron said after a moment, "We're leaving for school tomorrow."
"Sh!t."
A/N: Harry's forgetting a lot more even though Dumbledore's done nothing...maybe I did insert the side effects of all those obliviates huh...ANYWAY HAPPY PRIDE I KNOW JUNE'S ALMOST OVER BUT WE GOTTA MAKE THE MOST OF IT YALL ALL OF YOU ARE VALID I LOVE YOU