A low, raspy chuckle floated on the cool evening breeze, the sound carried deep into the shadowed trees. The cruel tone sent various birds flocking into the air from their lofty perches high in the covered branches, squawking and beating their wings madly. The figure froze; its head at an angle, listening to the rustling of leaves, and pausing for a few breathless moments until the only sounds that remained were the wind and the rattling of the air as it rushed in and out of their lungs. Reddened eyes looked back down at the box that was held tightly against their chest and stained hands struggled to pry the lid open in order to reveal its contents.

Fingernails dug deeply into the grooves of the lid. With a tired groan and a puff of dust, the lid lifted on rusty hinges. Nestled on a bed of soft velvet, as black as midnight, neither frayed or decayed despite its years of being hidden in the ground, was a necklace. Fashioned from a simple silver chain, a smooth, round crystal was attached to it by a claw-like hand; it's long, sharp nails reaching down the glassy sides as it clung to it with an iron grip. It flashed and winked enticingly, glinting silver with a touch of red in the fading light.

With careful movements, as if it would shatter, the chain was gently untangled and the necklace removed from its bed of cloth. It was slipped around a slender neck, the pendent hanging just below the first button of their shirt, and the chain resting comfortably against the base of their neck. A small patch of heat was pooling where the orb touched flesh, sending a surge of power deep into their veins. One hand crept up to wrap itself protectively around the crystal, delighting in the heat that spread throughout their fingers and trickled up their arm. Within the once clear glass, red and black smoke began to swirl in thin, wispy strands.

"Revenge is sweet," the voice said roughly. "Harry Potter."

~*~

Sunlight filtered through the partially open bedroom windows of the small, white cottage, painting the usually crisp, white walls a soft rose as the morning sun stretched out her lazy fingers of pink and gold. The faint sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds mixed sweetly with the pungent odor of frying bacon. A light breeze sent the thin curtains billowing inward, the soft folds flapping gently against each other.

In the growing light of morning, a black haired boy lay sleeping peacefully. His face was lax and expressionless, his mouth agape as soft snores left his lips. His lanky body was relaxed and his breathing was even and rhythmic, instead of labored and sporadic as it had been previously when he visited the land of dreams. His nights were no longer plagued with visions of piercing red eyes, bright as the glowing embers in a fire, or cold, cruel laughter, searing pain, or haunting cries of a mother he never knew.

The lifeless, gray eyes of Cedric Diggory, a fellow classmate a year older, had faded deep into the back of his memory, replaced by deep pools of endless brown and gold flecks. Eyes that shone with love, laughter, and intelligence. Eyes that looked at him, not in reproach or sudden horror, but in happiness and life, along with a hint of pride. It was within these dreams that he found his rest, his peace, dreams of a love shared.

He stirred once in his sleep, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. One arm was slung above his head as he lay on his stomach. The other arm was tucked under his lone pillow, its twin having been thrown to the floor during the course of the night. Long legs were stretched out, tangled up in the sheets that had pooled at the end of the bed. Across the room, the door opened quietly and a figure of a man slipped soundlessly inside the still bedroom. Crossing the floor silently, he knelt by the bed and spoke softly.

"Harry," his name was followed by a gentle shake on the shoulder. "Harry, wake up."

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his back, his eyes opening into mere slits as they fought to close again. "Yes Aunt Petunia," he said sleepily, his hand automatically reaching out to fumble blindly for his glasses. His normally messy black hair seemed wilder from his nights sleep. "I'll see to breakfast right away," he yawned and stumbled out of bed, a bit disorientated as he shuffled around his room in his tee-shirt, shorts, and socks, nearly walking right into his desk that was tucked into a corner.

An amused chuckle followed his groggy antics, and laughing eyes watched from their place by the bed. "Harry," another laugh escaped the lips of Sirius Black, although his brown eyes were touched with a hint of sadness at hearing his godson's automatic response to his rousing. "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Harry swung blurry eyes round, finally coming to rest on the slight smile of his amused godfather. "Sirius?" his forehead wrinkled in a moment of confusion. "What are you doing here?" he glanced frantically at the bedroom door, fearing his Uncle Vernon would burst through like a rampaging hippopotamus, his bushy mustache bristling and demanding to know why he wasn't  in the kitchen fixing Dudley's breakfast yet.

Sirius only smiled in response, rising from his kneeling position to sit on the edge of Harry's vacated bed. "Did you forget," his smile grew a bit wider. "Where you were?" there was a light twinkle in his warm, brown eyes.

Harry stared for a moment longer before realization sunk in. "Erm – sorry," he flushed and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I forgot," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as his spoke.

"That much is obvious," Sirius hoisted himself off the bed. "And," he smirked, trying to ease Harry's apparent embarrassment. "I resent the fact you thought I was that hideous muggle," he crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full height as his bearded chin jutted out. "And a woman at that," he joked.

Harry flushed a deeper red and scuffed his stocking feet against the smooth, oak floorboards. "Sorry," he muttered again, not catching Sirius's teasing tone. "I didn't mean too."

Sirius chuckled again and crossed the room to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Hey," he told the young man before him. "I was only joking. This is your home now, no apologizes are needed," he winked before studying him with a critical eye.

He'd changed over the course of the school term, as well as the beginning of his summer holidays. His face had begun to lose its boyish and childlike qualities, instead becoming angled plains and hard lines of one who'd been through too much for such short years. He'd shot up in height by a few inches, standing at 5'9", though still shorter than Ron's towering 6'2". His shoulders had begun to broaden, becoming wider and more masculine in their appearance, his voice was deepening into a low baritone, although not without a fair bit of cracking and popping as it did so. And his frame, though still skinny, was bordering on becoming more slender than anything else, and was lined with sinewy muscle.

His trademark black hair would never leave him, or obey him, sticking up every which way it pleased. Green eyes peered out from behind round spectacles, and the ever-present lightening bolt still favored the right side of his forehead. The jagged line showed darkly against his pale flesh as it slanted and twisted downwards.

"Are you done staring at me?" it was Harry's turn to grin at the glazed look in Sirius's eyes. Amusement flashed in emerald green and he reached up a hand to try and flatten his stubborn hair.

With a quick blink, Sirius shook his head and gave a lop-sided smile. "Sorry about that," he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I guess I got distracted for a moment," he scratched his beard and looked away as a thin layer of moisture appeared in his eyes.

"Oh?" Harry crossed his arms and gave Sirius a questioning look.

He cleared his throat. "Well you just," he paused, mentally debating on whether or not to continue. He did. "I mean, I know I've said this before, but, you look just like your dad, just like James. Even down to that crooked grin you have," Sirius said wistfully. "Except your eyes, they're your mums," his voice trailed off.

Harry said nothing as he noticed the far off look return to Sirius's eyes, just smiled and nodded. "Thanks," he murmured softly after a few more moments, not quite sure of what else was appropriate to say.

"Come on," Sirius snapped out of his memories with an apologetic grin. "It's time for breakfast."

~*~

He served Harry a breakfast that rivaled any at Hogwarts. There were mounds of fluffy, yellow eggs, and plates of golden pancakes, French toast, regular toast, bacon, and a tall pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice for Harry; Sirius stuck with tea. Harry stared at the food laden table with a bit of confusion.

"Um, Sirius?" he began haltingly as he plopped himself into a chair and surveyed the table with a careful eye. "Is Professor Lupin coming over for breakfast?" he inquired.

"First of all Harry, it's Remus," Sirius corrected him from somewhere in the depths of the kitchen. "And secondly, no, I'm not expecting him. Why?"

"Erm – well," he was still confused. "Anyone else?" he asked hopefully.

Sirius emerged from the other room with two plates in hand. "No."

"Then, why all the food?"

Sirius handed him a plate before seating himself across from him. With a sudden swish and flick of his wand, several bottles of syrup began to float from the kitchen, clinking together merrily. "Harry," he picked up his fork and began spooning eggs onto his plate. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" next went a couple slices of bacon to join the eggs.

"Yes, everyday in fact," arms were crossed and green eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?" he looked at Sirius expectantly.

"You're too thin," Sirius replied calmly, reaching out a hand to pick up the salt shaker. "Especially for a growing boy, you really ought to eat more."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes Mrs. Weasley," he smirked and then smiled at the thought of the plump, red-haired woman giving him the same advice.

His smile was returned. "Speaking of the Weasley's," he paused to shovel in a forkful of eggs. "Ron sent an owl," he pointed at the parchment sitting neatly on the counter with his knife.

A wide grin spread across Harry's face as he caught sight of the letter. Pushing back from the table, he rose to get it. Breaking the seal open, he wandered back over to his chair and sat down to read.

Harry –

Hey mate, how is your summer with Sirius? It must be a relief for you not to have to stay with those stuffy muggles anymore. My holiday started off a bit slow, but Lavender and I have taken to owling each other. Sod off you git, I know what you're thinking. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a week or so, starting Friday. Things are pretty dull around here and I think mum is getting annoyed by all my lazing around. I was going to write Hermione and invite her too, but I think I'll leave that up to you. Owl soon and let me know.

Ron

"Sirius," Harry put the letter down next to his still empty plate and glanced up at him. "Ron wants to know if I can go over to the Burrow for a week or so, starting Friday."

Sirius finished chewing and took a sip from the teacup sitting next to him. "If you want to, you can," he nodded and then went on with a sly look in his eyes. "Will Hermione be there?" he grinned wider, teasing shinning from his eyes.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and blushed for the third time that morning, right up to his hairline. "Erm – maybe," he stared at his plate. "I – I haven't asked her yet," he muttered a bit bashfully.

Sirius set his cup down with a clunk. "I can't believe you've gone and gotten yourself a girlfriend," he leaned back in his chair until the wooden back creaked and groaned. "A girlfriend," he repeated himself and laced his hands behind his head. "There'll be broken hearted witches all over the wizarding world once word gets out."

Harry choked and sputtered in embarrassment at Sirius's comment.

"A girlfriend," he was beginning to sound like a broken record by now. "And Hermione at that," the torment continued. "Who would have guessed that you two would end up together?" he paused. "Well, you did make a spectacle of yourselves at your welcome back party. Really, one would have to be blind not to notice the way you two looked at each other the whole time. And let's not forget the hug," he winked. "I'm sure that sent tongues wagging all throughout Gryffindor Tower."

Harry gagged. "Sod off," he managed to spit out, his face on fire.

Sirius grinned and finally relented. "You can go," he said again. "And tell Hermione I said hi. You couldn't have picked a better girl."

"I think she picked me," Harry managed to fight down his embarrassment, dropping his eyes down to where Ron's letter was still sitting. "I'm surprised that they still want anything to do with me," he said softly. "I mean, after everything I said about them last year."

"The Weasley's are good people," Sirius leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I think they're just happy you're back to your old self. We all are in fact."

Harry nodded once, doubt at Sirius's words still showing plain on his face and eyes. "Thanks Sirius," he murmured, rising to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asked with raised eyebrows.

"To my room," Harry froze, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

Sirius's eyes went from Harry's face to his empty plate. "You need to eat something before you go," he picked up his teacup again. "I know the Dursley's didn't feed you like they should have, and that stops now," he waved a hand towards the empty chair. "Come on Harry," he urged.

He gave a slight smile and seated himself once more. "I suppose Ron's letter can wait until after breakfast."

~*~

When he finally left the table, Sirius stuffing him until he was sure he'd burst wide open, and entered his room, the first thing he noticed was Hedwig perched on the windowsill, a letter wrapped tightly around her leg. He crossed the room and fondly stroked her head as she ruffled her feathers importantly.

"Hey girl," he said softly as she hooted in response. She nibbled his finger lightly and held out her leg so he could untie her burden. "Thank you," he smiled as he noted the neat and precise handwriting of Hermione. "Don't go too far," he told the owl. "I'll need to send a reply."

She managed a lazy blink of her amber eyes and gave a hoot suggesting that she knew that already as she'd been flying back and forth in between their houses for the last couple of weeks now.

He only smiled and sat on the edge of his bed to unroll Hermione's letter, his heart picking up speed just at the mere thought of her. And, try as he might, he couldn't stop the wide grin from lighting up his face.

Dear Harry –

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. I suppose I could fill pages and pages with that, but I won't. I'm sure you get the idea by now. I know it's only a month or so into our summer holiday, and I should have asked you this sooner, but have you started on your summer homework? If you haven't, you should. It won't get done on its own you know. I've already finished most of mine, but I should still go back through and make sure I haven't left anything out.

Things are going well here and mum and dad say hi. How are you? Are you still sleeping okay? Write soon. I love you and I'll tell you that as often as you like. Miss you again.

Love –

Your Hermione

Another dreamy smile slid across his features as he read her words. His Hermione. It was still somewhat of a shock to him that she could and did love him for who he really was and not just for the thrill of dating him, as if he were a prize to be won. Letting out a sigh, he flopped backwards on his bed, arms spread out and Hermione's letter resting lightly on his chest. The familiar warm feeling that he associated with only her rolled through his system.

He closed his eyes and conjured up a mental image of her sparkling brown eyes framed by her studious-looking glasses, her long toffee colored hair, her clear, porcelain skin, and the smile that lit up her face with its happiness. Above him, Hedwig hooted, rousing him from his day dreaming and reminding him that she was still awaiting his response to Hermione's letter. He cracked open his eyes, glanced up at his faithful pet, and rose from his bed to sit at the wooden desk, the same one that he'd almost run into earlier.

He pulled out a fresh bottle of ink, shoved his school texts to the side of the wooden surface, and pulled a clean, fresh sheet of parchment towards him. Tapping the end of his quill thoughtfully against his chin, he dipped the tip into the ink and began to write. The words began to appear in his messy scrawl, contrasting sharply against the creamy paper.

My Hermione –

I miss you too love, more than you'll ever know. I was just about to send you a letter when I found Hedwig waiting for me with yours. I'm glad to hear everything is going well for you and tell your parents hi for me as well. And no, I haven't started my homework, but don't worry, I'll finish it before school starts. We all can't be as intelligent and studious as you are love, and remember, I love you because of that.

Yes I'm still sleeping fine, for some reason I can't get your image out of my mind. Why could that be? Ron's just owled me and asked if we could join him for a week at the Burrow starting Friday. Do you think your parents would let you go? Sirius has already said yes and hi by the way. I'll wait to hear from you before sending a reply back to Ron. Write as soon as you can. Love you and hope to see you soon.

Love –

Harry

He lay the quill back down on the desk, capped the ink bottle and re-read his letter with an air of satisfaction. He gently blew on the letter to dry the ink faster before folding it in half and carrying it over to where Hedwig. She obediently held out her leg, allowing him to tie on the letter. After carefully strapping it down, he stroked her feathers and carried her over to the window as she perched on his arm.

"Wait for an answer alright?"

She hooted in reply, nipped at him, and stepped off his outstretched arm and onto the windowsill. Bobbing her head once, she spread her wings and soared out into the sky, blending in with the overlay of fluffy, white clouds.

~*~

It was only an hour before Hedwig returned, lighting gracefully onto Harry's headboard once again. Ruffling her feathers to remove the last traces of water from the rain she'd come across, she hopped down onto his bed where he lay sleeping, one hand still clutching Hermione's letter. Looking at him with a cocked head, Hedwig nipped him gently on the wrist, causing him to stir and stretch.

"Hey girl," he greeted with a yawn as she hooted in response and hopped onto his chest to show him her leg. "Thank you," he rubbed his eyes and reached out to untie the parchment.

Dear Harry –

I didn't expect you to reply so soon, not that I mind though. I love it when you call me your Hermione; it just makes me feel so loved. I've just asked my parents and they said it was fine if I go. Is it alright if my dad drops me off at your house on Friday? That way we can go to the Burrow together. I can't wait to see you.

Love –

Your Hermione

He grinned in happiness and sat up in his bed, rolling off it in order to get to his desk to send another reply. Sitting down, he hastily scribbled another note.

My Hermione –

Yes, of course it's fine if your dad drops you off here first. Let me know what time and I'll be counting down the days until I see you again.

Love –

Harry

He folded the letter, attached it to Hedwig once more, and sent her on her way, mentally counting down until he saw Hermione again.