Harry sighed again, staring at Severus directly in the eye, and pronounced each word carefully. “I want you to show me… my… funeral.”

Severus stared at Harry, his face blank. Harry squirmed under Severus's gaze, beginning to feel uncomfortable. Should he have really asked that? Maybe it was a little too much, but there was nothing he could do about that now, was there? It wasn't as if he could take it back…

“Nevermind,” Harry said quickly, shaking his head. “Forget it. I'm gonna go to bed. 'Night Sev—”

“You want to… what?” Severus had drawled it out so slow that with each word, a rash of goosebumps covered a patch of Harry's arms.

“I said forget it,” Harry said, scooping Black up and standing. “Forget it, it was thick of me to ask. Honestly.”

Harry started to go up the stairs, but stopped himself as Severus spoke quietly.

“Why do you want to see his funeral?”

Harry bit his lip, stroking Black's fur as he tried to find his voice. “Well, I just—”

“Harry,” Severus said, sounding irritated. “I do not care to converse with the back of your head. Now, if you'd only turn around and begin over again….”

Harry cleared his throat, slowly turning around until he was staring down at Severus, who stood with his arms crossed at the bottom of the staircase. Harry stayed quiet for a moment or two, trying to collect his thoughts, and to make sure that his explanation came out clear without getting jumbled up.

“T—technically, if I'm staying, then… it was my funeral… and I can't help that I just want to see it, to be there, to just… know.”

So it hadn't been the clear, exact explanation Harry was hoping for, but at least he sort of managed to express it in a way that wasn't completely jumbled, but it wasn't eloquent, either.

“And how, exactly, would you be capable to see your… funeral?”

“Your pensieve,” Harry replied quickly. Inwardly, he groaned.. Severus didn't know that he knew about the pensieve, or that he had went and witnessed all of the memories that Severus had stored in that pensieve.

“My pensieve,” Severus repeated in a slow voice, his eyebrows slightly raised. He didn't look too happy. “And how, pray, do you know about my pensieve?”

“W—when that incident happened, and, well, you and…” Harry gulped. “When you… y'know… and my reality….”

Severus's gaze now turned icy. “You went snooping through my pensieve whilst I was away?”

It seemed 'away' was the only way to describe it.

“Not exactly, I mean Sirius was with me!”

The gaze turned even icier. “So Black allowed this?”

Harry stared at the ground, beginning to feel guilty. He knew, sooner or later, when Severus found out (which Harry, at the time, hoped he never would) that he'd get angry.

“Severus, I'm sorry,” he said softly, setting his kitten down on the step as it tried to wiggle free from his hands. “I know it was wrong to go into your pensieve without permission, and I hope… and I hope you forgive me for it. But at the time I just wanted to see what it was like before. And now I'd like to see the funeral.”

Severus shook his head. “I do not see why.”

“I just told you why,” Harry pointed out. “I'd just like to see.”

Severus seemed to take hours studying Harry's face, though Harry knew it was only a minute. He wished Severus could make up his mind faster. Oh, why did even ask in the first place? He knew it was a strange request, and he knew that he didn't know why he wanted to witness this Harry's funeral, exactly. Was it just curiosity? Curiosity always got the better of Harry, anyway.

“No,” Severus finally said firmly, looking pleased with his decision. “I will not allow you to see such a memory. Now, I suggest you retire to your bedroom for the night. It's quite late and as I've said, you look rather tired.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he recieved a glare from Severus, which was almost daring him to argue.

“Fine,” Harry muttered, bending down to scoop the kitten back into his hands, though it tried to wiggle free again. “Goodnight.”

Why was he in such a bad mood, Harry wondered, when all along he had a feeling that that would be Severus's answer?

When Harry reached the top step, he set the kitten down on the ground again so it could run around freely. He jumped, however, when he straightened up and found a tall person standing in front of him.

“Sorry I scared you,” Sirius said, grinning in amusement at the look on Harry's face. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Not yet,” Sirius replied. “I was kind of eavesdropping—although it honestly wasn't eavesdropping, considering you weren't so quiet and it was easy to hear.”

Harry grinned weakly. “Yeah, it was a weird thing to ask, wasn't it?”

Sirius threw a casual arm around Harry's shoulder, walking with him toward his bedroom. “Well, just a little, but I don't know why Snape said no… it's not really anything private, especially towards you.”

“I dunno,” Harry said.

Sirius watched closely as Harry sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at something on his floor—though Sirius began to realize Harry wasn't staring at anything in particular, just into space. Sensing something was wrong, Sirius sat down by Harry.

“Is something wrong? Is it Snape not letting you see the memory of the funeral?”

Harry glanced up at Sirius and shook his head. “No, not really.”

“You look weird,” Sirius observed slowly, frowning. “What is it? Are you… homesick?”

Harry looked startled. “Homesick? What do you mean?”

“I mean… your other reality? Are you homesick over that?” Sirius cleared his throat. “I—I mean it makes sense, you know. Are you?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders distractedly. “I dunno. There's nothing really to be homesick over in my reality. The Dursleys… I could never be homesick over them… but I do miss Ron and Hermione.”

Sirius looked thoughtful. “They're in this reality too, you know.”

“I know.” Harry nodded. “It just… sorta won't be the same in a way. They might be Ron and Hermione, just… a different Ron and Hermione.”

“I'm sorry,” Sirius said quietly, though Harry had no idea why he was apologizing. “If you really want to go back… did you ever get rid of that paper, Harry? I mean….”

Harry's eyes widened. “I—I don't want to leave here, but yes, I still need to get rid of that incantation. I haven't gotten around to that yet.”

“Make sure you do it soon,” Sirius said. “I really don't feel comfortable with that thing lying around the house.” Sirius stood, giving Harry another grin. “'Night. I hope you feel better soon.”

Harry returned the grin. “Don't worry, I will. Goodnight.”

Harry waited until Sirius closed the door until he got up off the bed and went over the dresser, where the folded up incantation lay. He picked it up, opened it, and stared at the letters. Why couldn't he seem to throw this away? Did he even really need to keep it…? If Severus or Sirius found out that he wanted to keep it, what would they say? Maybe he shouldn't even let them know he still had it.

Harry's eyes skimmed over his bedroom, trying to locate a good place to put the paper. He took a few steps forward, holding his breath as he heard a creak.

Harry pressed his foot down on a floorboard, and sure enough, it made a creaking sound again. He sat down behind the floorboard, setting the paper down beside him and tried to lift the floorboard up. This was so ridiculous—why was he even keeping the incantation in the first place? But he ended up lifting the loose floorboard up anyway, and folding the paper back up, he stuck it in there and then placed the floorboard back down in its proper place.

Harry passed the mirror on his way back over to his bed. The bandage that had been on his forehead was gone now, he had taken it off a few days ago, and he was relieved to see that it was not scarring. This Harry still had the lightning bolt scar, so Harry didn't really feel like having another scar on the other side of his forehead, as well.

Harry pulled the sheets down, his thoughts on what he and Sirius had been previously talking about. He began to wonder, though, if this Ron and Hermione were the same as the Ron and Hermione in his original reality? After all, Severus had definitely changed in this one, so it was possible other people had changed just as well.

--

“Morning, Harry,” Sirius greeted early the next morning as Harry graced Severus and Sirius with his presence at the table. “Colleen came by to give us the litter box for the cat, since we weren't able to get it last night. Now we just need to find a place to put it.”

Severus made a face. “If only the gift had been a dog. Dog's do not need litter boxes, which need cleaning—which I am not doing. Although, I do suppose one dog is enough in this house….”

Sirius made a face at Severus.

“Don't worry,” Harry said quickly, taking his seat. “I can do that. Where is Black, anyway?”

“Around somewhere,” Sirius answered. “He hasn't gotten used to walking up the staircase, so he can't be on the top floor.”

“I had him upstairs last night,” Harry reminded Sirius. “Did you bring him down?”

“Well, I put the box downstairs in our room, and then I took Black and put him down there as well so he knows where to go from now on. That is the room we thought we'd keep it in, right, Snape?”

“Correct,” Severus agreed, giving his head a nod.

Harry began to pile a few flapjacks on his plate, Sirius's next question startling Harry.

“So… are you feeling better today?”

Harry's eyes quickly flickered onto Severus, then briefly onto Sirius before letting them rest on his plate as he gave a sharp, quick nod. “Yeah. Uh huh.”

“You weren't feeling good yesterday?” Severus's voice was coated with surprise.

“Just feeling a little homesick,” Sirius said quickly. Harry looked up again to see that he looked as if he regretted bringing anything up. “Missing his friends a bit, thats all.”

Severus nodded his head. “Understandably.”

There was a silence that followed as Harry ate his flapjack. Out of nowhere, however, Sirius suddenly stood from his chair and began to try and pull Harry up from his chair.

“Are you done breakfast yet? Oh, yes, I think you are! Come on Harry, let me show you where I put that box exactly, all right?”

Harry barely had time to manage a, “What?” out before he found himself hastily being tugged down the stairs with Sirius yelling over his shoulder, “We'll be back, Snape!”

“What are we doing?” Harry finally asked, frowning.

“You'll see,” Sirius said, still holding onto Harry's elbow. Harry's frown deepened as they went past their room, and into Severus's study.

Harry's eyes widened, and he tried to squirm from Sirius's grip. “What are we doing?” he repeated again, in a quieter tone.

Sirius shut the door quietly, fixing his eyes on Severus's Pensieve. “Quiet,” he said softly, pulling out his wand from his pocket. Harry's eyes remained the same size.

“We shouldn't be in here,” Harry pointed out nervously. “What if Severus comes in here and finds us? What are you doing?”

“We must hurry then,” Sirius said. He gave Harry an amused look. “Come on, lighten up, kiddo. You wanted to see that funeral, didn't you? Well, Snape wasn't the only one there.”

“What happens if he finds that memory in there? Can he? He never had that in there before.”

Sirius nodded. “I know, he doesn't like even thinking about that day. It's hard just for him to talk about it. I can always retrieve it after we're through, though.”

Harry glanced hesitantly at the Pensieve. “I don't know….”

“It's either you want to or you don't,” Sirius said softly, looking back at the door. “Quick now, before Snape realizes something's up. He's good at knowing when I'm lying or not.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed quickly. “Let's do it.”

Harry watched, amazed, as Sirius transferred his memory to the pensieve. Then, with an encouraging nod from Sirius, Harry stepped forward, once again, into Snape's pensieve.

--

Harry found himself outside, with a cool breeze whipping through his hair. He had to blink a few times before he was able to focus on his surroundings. He looked up at the sky—it was cloudy and grey, but it didn't really look like it was going to rain. The air was cool, and the atmosphere seemed so… depressing.

Graveyards were always depressing, though. It was a rather awkward feeling that, technically, this was his funeral he was at. In that coffin… was, honestly, him.

Harry turned his head to the side, staring up at Severus, who was staring intently at the coffin in the center of everyone. Usually Harry could hardly decipher Severus's facial expressions—this seemed to be the only exception. His face was a mixture of grief, devastation and agony, along with others that Harry could hardly describe. He looked as if in a moment he was about to fall apart.

Sirius stood next to Severus, his face just as full of agony that made Harry's heart break once more. It was almost as if Sirius couldn't believe that this was actually real, that it was actually happening.

Harry, ignoring everything that was being spoken and only focusing on Severus and Sirius, tried to place a comforting hand on Severus's arm, but it went right through. Harry pulled his hand back. Immediately, two figures across from him caught his eye.

Ron and Hermione—looking exactly as they did in his original reality. Hermione had her arm over her face, her body shaking with her sobs. Ron had a hand on her shoulder, staring down at the closed coffin with disbelief. His face was deathly white and his eyes were rather wet-looking.

Just as Harry was about to turn around to look at Severus once more, he felt himself being pulled from the memory, and within a second he was standing by Sirius in Severus's study once again.

“Did you see?” Sirius asked softly, trying to catch Harry's eye.

Harry stared down at the ground, nodding. “Yeah. I did. It was… it was….”

There were no words to describe how he felt.

Sirius patted Harry's shoulder with a sad look. “Why don't you go back upstairs and let me finish here? I don't want Snape getting too suspicious.”

Harry nodded silently, opening the door and going past his and Sirius's room to the carpeted stairs. He tried to fix his expression so it wouldn't give him away. When he would look at Severus… there wouldn't be one trace of guilt. He'd just try and make himself look normal.

“Did you have a good time?”

Harry froze as he stared at Severus, his eyes wide. “What do you mean, Severus?”

“Looking at the litter box,” Severus answered, his eyebrows raised. “Did you have a good time? It took you quite long enough.”

“Oh,” Harry replied lamely, nodding his head quickly. “Oh, yes, sure—”

“Well, chaps,” Sirius's loud voice said enthusiastically from behind Harry. “I think I'll be off now. Normy Johnson and a few others are going to try to nominate suggestions for names for the Nameless restaurant, so of course I want to be included. Still Padfoot's Place, isn't it, Harry?”

Harry smiled widely. “Of course.”

Severus sighed, giving his head a shake as he heard the front door slam shut. “I can't quite comprehend what it is with Black and that ridiculous idea of Padfoot's Place.”

Harry sat down in his chair again, sipping on the drink that had been poured for him. He looked up to find Severus staring at him with an expression that Harry couldn't exactly read.

“I'm sorry I asked what I asked last night,” Harry murmured, setting his cup down and purposefully avoided Severus's eye. “I realize it must be a difficult thing to remember.”

“Yes,” Severus agreed with a nod of his head. “It is. I'm surprised you haven't requested the same thing today. Last night it seemed as if you weren't quite so ready to give in.”

“No,” Harry answered quickly. “No… it's fine.” Harry searched his brain quickly for a topic he could use to change the particular subject. With anymore of the talk, Harry felt his guilt might start to be apparent. “So, I forgot Mrs. Hammond gave us a basket of food a while ago.”

“Yes,” Severus said again. “I saw that. Perhaps later today you can get into it before Black ends up consuming the entire thing.” Severus paused, momentarily searching Harry's face. “How are you feeling, Harry? Your homesickness?”

“I wouldn't call it homesickness. I just miss Ron and Hermione, like Sirius said, but I'm fine. I'll be fine.”

“If you'd prefer your original reality,” Severus said slowly, looking unpleased at the thought, “then by all means… I'd rather not keep you here against your will, no matter how much I'd like you to stay.”

“Sirius sort of suggested the same thing,” Harry said. He shook his head. “But I don't want to leave. No matter how much I miss them, I honestly do like it here, and I want to stay.”

Then, trying to show Severus he was not about to change his mind, he gave a firm look, and the conversation ended.

--

Harry laughed weakly. “I'm stuffed, Severus. So stuffed that… I don't feel very good.”

Harry and Severus sat at the table, where the basket Mrs. Hammond had given them sat opened. Sirius hadn't returned yet, so Harry figured that they should at least get into some of it before he came home. Harry rubbed his stomach, making a face.

Severus frowned in concern. “Did you just eat too much?”

“Ugh.” Harry groaned. “I dunno, maybe, but I feel like… like I'm going to….”

It was hard for Harry to finish that sentence without feeling queasy, so he left it out in the open. He took slow, deep breaths, trying to concentrate on something other than the way he was feeling at that moment.

Severus intently studied Harry's face. The boy did look rather green, and he had a tired look about him. He hadn't dealt with a sick child in a long time, Severus realized. Then, Harry began to gag, and Severus could only imagine what would come next.

He tried to pull Harry up off the chair and help him to the upstairs bathroom, although it didn't seem like they would be able to make it in time.

As Harry began to gag again, Severus made a face. Oh, what fun this was going to be.