DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling and various others own everything, I own nothing. Please don't sue me, I'm already poor and miserable.

Chapter One - The Letter

By MasterKtulu

"No!!!!!!!"

Harry suddenly sat up, waking up in a cold Sweat from a nightmare he had experienced every single night, ever since he had returned to Privet Drive two weeks ago. Looking around he noticed his bedroom was drowning in darkness except from the moonlight hitting his bed coming from his open window. Knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, Harry blindly grabbed for his glasses on his nightstand but grabbed his Wand instead. Letting go of his Wand with a small clatter, he grabbed his glasses and put them on.

Looking around, even the darkness became clearer and in focus. Harry looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand and noticed that it was a little after two in the morning. Harry swung his legs off his bed and stayed sitting on his bed for a moment looking out the open window. Turning his head, he saw Hedwig's perch empty, knowing she was probably outside hunting for a late night snack.

Harry stood up and walked to his desk, lighted a candle and sat down on his chair tucking his legs under his desk. He took a pile of letters that he had received the day before and looked at them critically. He had not bothered to open them yet, he knew that whatever lay inside wouldn't mater very much because nothing mattered very much anymore.

"Well… Lets see what everybody wants shall we." Harry said to himself in a dead unemotional whisper.

Harry opened the first letter, which had the Gringotts seal on it and started to read the parchment with a faint crease in the middle of his forehead.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Be informed that because of finding conclusive proof of his passing, the last will and testament of Mr. Sirius T. Black will be read at your nearest convenience at Gringotts Wizard's Bank in Diagon Alley.

Included is a special Gringotts Portkey in the shape of a Knut. It will take you directly to my personal office where we'll be able to go through the will and all the necessary paperwork in complete privacy. To activate the Portkey just hold the Knut in your hand and say out loud: 'Black Estate.' I await you anytime, day or night.

All my condolences

Adviser Raphoke

Gringotts Wizard's Bank

Harry reached inside the envelope and pulled out a single Knut, he examined it for a while with a blank face void of any emotion. It looked like a regular Knut except for where there was suppose to have the Goblin serial number was instead written 'Goblin Portkey.'

Harry put the Portkey on top of his desk and as he reached for the next letter in the pile on his desk, a burst of fire next to him made him stop. Slowly he turned his head to look at a beautiful Crimson bird appear out of nowhere and land on his shoulder. Harry noticed that the bird had a letter in its beak, and as he went to take the letter from the bird, Harry whispered:

"Lo Fawkes… You're looking better."

Harry took the letter and as Fawkes was about to trill a hello, Harry cut him off.

"You'd better go before you wake up the Dursleys."

Fawkes paused, jumped off Harry's shoulder and landed on the desk, turned around slowly, faced Harry and looked at him critically.

Fawkes stared at Harry for a while and noticed that his once brilliant green eyes were void of any emotion and looked as if dead. Reluctantly, Fawkes took flight, and in a flash of fire was gone. Harry opened the letter Fawkes had delivered and started to read the parchment inside.

Dear Harry,

Your friends Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, Miss Granger and your Ex-professor Remus Lupin have contacted me expressing their worries about you. They all state that instead of corresponding with them like you normally did in years past, that every three days like clockwork they each receive the same identical short letter only stating that you are fine, and not to worry. Well it seams that your letters are doing nothing but worrying them.

They inform me that you completely ignore all comments and questions they inquire of you and only receive back your short letters aimed to appease them and the Order of your well being, resulting in not having any Order members to come and call. I must confess that I too am starting to get worried from your actions or lack of.

I suggest that you try to appease these fears from your friends and inform them of your feelings and your situation. I assure you it will help you get through these difficult times. But if you wish to have little contact with your friends and try to get through this alone that is completely up to you. The grieving process is different for everyone, but know that we all love you and no fault lies with you for Sirius's passing.

Now to business, I am afraid that you will have to stay with your Aunt and Uncle for the remainder of the summer. With Voldemort finally in the open, he has no more reason to hide. His attacks will be bolder and more frequent before long. As such, no place exists that would be safer than with your relatives. I know you hate to hear this but you know what losing you would mean to this world and I must do whatever I can to keep you safe.

Try not to leave the safety of the house as much as you can, stay indoors. Be careful what you write in your letters, they can be intercepted. I will try to find a safe alternate way for you to communicate with your friends, until then be careful. Because you will not be able to go to Diagon Alley for your school supplies, your book list will be sent to the Weasleys for them to shop for you, using the gold from your vault.

I will try to write again soon, but because of the current state of affairs I may not be able to for some time. On the first of September at Nine in the morning your guard will arrive and take you to Platform 9 ¾ to take the Hogwarts Express.

If ever you have need of me, send word. Hedwig will find me.

Stay safe.

Albus Dumbledore

PS: Any thought to continuing with the D.A. this year.

Harry placed the letter on his desk and stared into nothingness for a moment. Although Dumbledore's letter was pretty long, he didn't have anything of importance to say. What his so called friends and Ex-professor thought about him, he couldn't care less. The bit about intercepting the Owls wasn't news to him; he had learned that lesson the hard way. Which had cost Hedwig a broken wing the year before… Umbridge would pay dearly for that one day.

Harry would have to stay at Privet Drive for the remainder of the summer, which he didn't mind all that much. The only two other possibilities he had, he didn't even want to consider them. One would be Grimmauld Place and he didn't want to set foot there ever again. The other would be the Burrow where the Weasleys would treat him like a three year old made of glass and the only place he could get a moments peace would be with the Ghoul in the attic.

Harry didn't like to stay with his so-called family but looking at his other possibilities he could handle the Dursleys easily enough, even without magic. At least here, no one bothered him and started asking if he was okay. Or worse yet, telling him that it wasn't his fault and no one blamed him. He had his amount of blame with what happened to Sirius, but so did many others.

One was Dumbledore, he could have told Harry the truth so many years ago. It would have been hard at first to take it all in but he would have gotten over it. With a little time and help from his friends and Sirius it would have been all right in the end. Dumbledore had once told him that he was sure Voldemort would come back, why not tell him the moment he first entered Hogwarts five years ago? And if it were true that Harry was the only one who could kill Lord Voldemort once and for all, wouldn't it have been common sense to start his magic training as soon as he was able to walk and hold a Wand?

Harry would have been able to prepare, learn what he needed to get ready for Voldemort's return. But now he was almost sixteen years old and knew nothing compared to the most powerful Dark Wizard in history, Expelliarmus will only get you so far. People always said that Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who ever feared, but Harry knew better.

Harry had seen Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel less than three weeks ago. He had only seen the littlest bit of apprehension in Voldemort's eyes, only to make sure not to take Dumbledore too likely. Voldemort Knew Dumbledore was powerful enough to resist him, a pain in the ass maybe, but nothing more. Dumbledore could never destroy Lord Voldemort, and they both knew it. Now Harry knew it too, but couldn't see what he could do that Dumbledore couldn't.

Dumbledore had told Harry lest than three weeks ago that he had a power that the Dark Lord knew not. That he possessed something in such quantities and which Voldemort had not at all: Love? Or something similar that made no sense whatsoever. Unless Harry had to hug and kiss Voldemort to death he didn't know what good love would be in the grand scheme of things.

Then Dumbledore had the audacity to finish his letter with the mention of the D.A. There was no way in hell that he was going to continue with it. If Dumbledore wanted the students trained he was going to teach them himself. Harry wasn't going to give the few students who didn't think him a mad attention seeking prate, a false sense of security just to fall prey to Voldemort and his Death Eaters anyway.

If it was so important for Harry to Teach some students to defend themselves properly, maybe Dumbledore should have arranged for him to be trained properly before now. Even now, he had nothing better to do for the next nine weeks unless you count lying in bed watching the paint dry on the ceiling that incidentally had finished drying a good ten years ago.

If Harry wasn't important enough to be taught what he needed to know to stay alive for another year or two, no student at Hogwarts was Important enough for Harry's effort. And more than half of who he would teach would probably turn against him before long and become Death Eaters themselves if they weren't already. A very good way to get yourself killed: Tell all your future enemies what you can and can't do, then teach them everything you know and help them improve their skills… Not bloody likely!

Zoning out for another moment Harry returned to his original train of thought: Blame for Sirius's Death. Second would be Voldemort, but there's no surprises there, since when did Tom 'Fucking' Riddle didn't have anything to do with everything. Harry wasn't even going to name all the reason to blame Voldemort for Sirius's death; he had enough reasons to hate Voldemort without putting Sirius in the mix.

Then there was Kreacher… Kreacher… Yes, Kreacher would pay dearly for what he did. Harry and Sirius should have listened to their instincts and kill that foul piece of… Of… No words could describe what Kreacher was, but one thing for was for sure, whatever Kreacher was he wasn't going be it for much longer. As long as Harry drew breath, Kreacher would pay in the most painful way possible. Even if it took Harry a hundred years to get a hold of Kreacher, he was going to squeeze the life out of him with his bare hands if it was the last thing he did.

Harry started to breath hard for a moment, and for the first time in weeks his eyes started to glow, almost illuminating the entire room with power and suppressed emotions. But just as quick as it came it was gone and Harry had retaken control over his emotions.

Steadying himself, Harry came to the next and last person on his list: Bellatrix Lestrange. To anybody else in the room at that time, Harry would have looked like he had blanked for the third time since he had woken up screaming that night, but Harry was deep in thought. As much as he hated Bellatrix for what she had done to the Longbottoms many years ago and what she had done to Neville just three weeks ago, he couldn't find a reason to blame her for Sirius's death.

True she had shot the spell that pushed Sirius into that veil, but Harry knew that wasn't her intention. They were playing like two cousins should be playing: to see who was strongest and who the better duellist was. What other Death Eater would shoot stunning and disarming spells in a supposed battle to the death. Sirius just happened to be standing in front of the veil when the spell hit him, falling into the unknown.

Harry had been able to re-examine his memories many times ever since his arrival back at the Dursleys. Bellatrix's face showed pure delight at the victory, but was betrayed by her eyes. The second Sirius was hit with the spell, Harry could swear he saw relief in her eyes, just before turning to pain and sadness which finally turned blank, all of which lasted a total of a second.

Harry couldn't understand the range of emotion Bellatrix had experience within that second. How could a person feel delighted, relieved, sadden then nothing all within a second then turned around and start duelling with Kingsley Shacklebolt like nothing happened. He would have to ask her the next time he saw her, the problem was to try and stop her from killing him long enough to ask her.

Harry gave his head a little shake, then turned his attention to the other letters on his desk. Harry picked one at random and noticed from the handwriting on the envelope that it was from Hermione. All of Hermione's previous letters were the same; they all started with a fully detailed list of her past week's revision and study schedule. Then as an after thought, asked Harry how he was feeling and why hadn't he responded fully to her past letters?

Harry turned around and tossed Hermione's unopened letter to the other end of his room missing his trashcan by three feet. He wasn't going to waste his time with another one of her letters any time soon.

Next was Ron's letter, which were the worse of them all. You'd think he had forgotten everything that had happened to Harry during the past year; and knowing Ron, that was a distinct possibility. All the letters started with a mindless babble of Quidditch facts then turn into a rant about how Hermione was in mortal danger because of her correspondence with Viktor Krum. And all his letters ended with the words "Why are you ignoring me, write back more than four bloody words." The unopened letter landed even farther from the trashcan than Hermione's.

Then it was Ginny's turn, her letters were far better than Ron or Hermione's were, but still a waste of time. Although they all started by telling Harry she understood how he must feel at the moment, they were just empty words. She described what was happening back at the Burrow in full detail and how Ron was sulking because Hermione was thinking of visiting Viktor Krum in Bulgaria during the summer. She didn't blame him for not writing back much, she was just ecstatic that he was writing back to her at all, even if it was always the same four words.

Ginny's unopened letter hit the trashcan but didn't go in. Although she wrote some encouraging and comforting thoughts, Harry was not in the mood to read them at the moment. Next to last was Remus's letter. Remus seemed like he was taking Sirius's death worse than everybody else was, including Harry. They all went on and on about how he missed Sirius and begged Harry not to blame himself, because no one else blamed him in the slightest.

Remus begged Harry not to keep everything bottled up inside, and start corresponding with him, so they could talk about how they felt and begin healing. Harry was having enough trouble dealing with everything without having to deal with a grieving werewolf at the same time. Remus's untouched letter was the first in four days to make it into the trashcan on the first try, bringing a small satisfied smirk on Harry's face.

Picking up the last letter he received the day before, Harry noticed that he didn't recognise the handwriting on the envelope, which only stated 'Harry'. Realising that he had nothing to lose and nothing else to do at the moment, Harry opened the envelope and took the single parchment inside and began to read.

Harry,

I realise I'm the last person you would like to speak to right now, but I beg you to hear me out. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I'm the very last person on Earth worthy of forgiveness. If I thought that I would have any chance of one-day receiving your forgiveness, I would go on bended knee and beg for all of eternity if necessary.

What I am requesting of you is a chance to explain all my past actions to you, with the small hope that you would one day believe me. Then to submit to you will, with any and all punishment you would see fit, may it be merciless torture or slow painful death. I would be ready to swear a Witch's oath that everything stated in this letter is the truth.

I see little chance in you accepting my offer but I make it aware of any and all consequences our meeting would produce. I truly hope that one day you accept and we can meet again, if nothing more than to kill me.

If you decide to accept my proposal we may meet at any time or place at your convenience. Included in the envelope is a Reverse Portkey in the shape of a small ring. I wear it's double at all times, ready for our eventual meeting. All you have to do, is hold the ring in your hand and say: "Sirius Black," and I will be transported at your location immediately to begin our meeting, then to be done with as you see fit.

B.B.

Harry's face showed confusion, reaching in the envelope, he grabbed a small woman's ring, which he examined critically for a long moment. It was a delicate gold band with a single precious stone. Seeing noting spectacular or strange about the ring, Harry put it down on his desk and reread the letter again and again to try and figure it out.

For the sake of his own life, Harry couldn't figure it out. Who was this 'B.B.' woman, and what in the hell was she talking about? He had never even heard of a Reverse Portkey before today, and supposedly one was sitting on his desk ready for him to summon an unknown Witch, for unknown reasons.

If every thing stated in the letter was true, Harry couldn't put his mind around it. The lack of sleep was not helping much either. Harry knew that he should put the letter and Portkey out of his mind for now, and return to them when he'd be well rested and able to think strait. But curiosity was getting the better of him, and could think of nothing else.

Harry didn't know anyone with the initials "B.B." let alone someone who would feel as guilty as this woman was supposedly feeling. If Harry was reading the letter correctly this Witch had something to do with Sirius, why else use his name to activate the Reverse Portkey?

As Harry understood it, she wanted to explain to him her past actions, then would consent to any punishment Harry saw fit? Although Harry didn't feel like torturing or killing anyone at the moment… Well, maybe Voldemort or Kreacher. He just couldn't stop being curious about this unknown Witch.

As Harry was reaching for the Reverse Portkey a sudden thought appeared in his mind that should have appeared long before now. In fact it should have been his first thought. The Witch being summoned could be anyone, from Voldemort himself to any of his loyal Death Eaters (Been there, done that) ready to kill him or worse. Why bother sending a regular Portkey that would send Harry to Voldemort, when they could send a strange Portkey to Bring Voldemort himself in Harry's bedroom? If nothing else, the look on Harry's face would be worth the time and extra effort for Voldemort, wouldn't it?

Then another thought appeared in Harry's mind. Why didn't Voldemort just bother to send a Portkey in a letter before now? Or better yet, send a letter that would be the Portkey itself, activating as soon as Harry touched it. An easy way to finally capture and kill The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry stopped for a moment, and reached the conclusion that a Ward or two was in place around number 4 Privet Drive to stop things like Portkeys from entering or activating.

Makes sense really, Dumbledore may be a manipulating, lying bastard, but he wasn't dumb… Well, most of the time anyway. That's probably why someone sent this new type of Portkey to Harry. They knew that a regular Portkey wouldn't reach Him or simply wouldn't work,

Strangely enough, the thought that Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters arriving by Portkey in Harry's bedroom didn't seem all that bad. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn't find a reason to continue on living. His so-called friends were more loyal to Dumbledore than they'd ever been to him. People praising him one minute then calling for his head the next. Living his life under a microscope for the whole world (Well, the Wizarding World anyway) to judge and critique his every action.

Couldn't turn around without making the front page of the Daily Prophet for scratching his nose. But more importantly, Harry couldn't imagine any woman wanting to share her life and love with him unless attracted by his fame or his bank vault. Was he destined to live the rest of his life alone and miserable? Surrounded by people that wanted to use and abuse him in various ways? Death would be a welcome change, an end, and a chance to finally rest. Maybe he would even be able to get his revenge on Kreacher in the afterlife… Well, if there is an afterlife.

Standing up, Harry walked to the window and closed it. Looking outside the window, he wondered briefly who was on guard duty then shut the curtains closed. He didn't want Hedwig to arrive from hunting and face the wrath of Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters, just because she happened to be his Owl. She would find a new home eventually, maybe with Hagrid or Hermione? Hedwig would decide herself; Harry owed her that much at least.

Thinking of Hedwig was starting to make Harry lose control of his emotions; she was his first and only true friend. She had stuck by him through all the bad times and had always kept him good company when he needed it. But she would eventually be happy with someone else. She would have an easier life than she could ever have with him, just like she deserved.

"She'll thank me someday…won't she?" Harry wondered for a moment, trying to find a note of conviction somewhere. "Am I doing the right thing?"

Then in the deep crevices of his mind, Harry found what he was looking for.

"I'm tired of doing what's right, it's time to do what's easy… I deserve that much."

Harry turned around and went back to his desk and sat down on his chair. Harry turned his head to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand and noticed that it was just past three in the morning. Next to the alarm clock he saw his Wand resting peacefully. Harry was about to stand up to retrieve his Wand, when he decided to leave it where it was, if he chicken-out at the last moment, he didn't want to have the option of defending himself. And with his luck, his underage use of magic would probably get him expelled from school or sent to Azkaban for life.

Harry picked up the Reverse Portkey and examined it again. It was strange that something so small and beautiful would be the end of him and probably a very painful end too. He waited a good twenty minutes staring at the ring, making sure he wasn't changing his mind. And during this time, his resolve only strengthened with every passing moment. Harry closed his hand into a fist, trapping the small ring inside. And for the first time in a month, Harry's face turn out a faint smile, welcoming his end.

Barely above a whisper, in a voice full of resolve and conviction, Harry said two small words… Two small words that had changed Harry's life for the better at the end of his third year at Hogwarts... Two small words which on this night, would change everything again.

"Sirius Black."

Still sitting at his desk, Harry waited for a moment, and suddenly out of the corner of his left eye, a woman appeared out of thin air. The woman had her back to him and was standing barefoot less than three feet away from Harry.

Her back still facing him, Harry noticed that her hair was the darkest of blacks and started strait, contouring her head perfectly then at her shoulders, expanded slightly in waves ending in the middle of her back. Continuing downwards, Harry noticed that she wasn't wearing very much, only a very short and tight, black satin slip, exposing the longest legs that Harry and ever seen. And even though it was still pretty dark in his room, Harry could still see that she was very pale.

As though she could sense Harry staring at her, she slowly turned around finding Harry's bright green eyes staring at her. She found herself unable to stare back and her eyes dropped to find the floor.

Recognising her, Harry froze for a moment before finding his voice.

"Bellatrix!?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to give special thanks to "Black Sabbath", to whom I listened exclusively all through writing this chapter (The live reunion double CD, for those who just have to know).